Time goes by so painfully, bringing with it lessons in pain and joy, sighs of pleasure tainted with sobs of sorry.
Now I'm alone, thinking of the things that could have been. Alone on my path. Alone with the pit, the darkness guiding me back to familure ground. It all looks the same in the soft cold blackness. No sound can sooth me now, her voice so absent it hurts my ears.
Now, like the Dane, I ponder the benifits of sleep. My eyes so heavy, my heart more so. One cycle by, another begun, no piercing ring to herald her voice. What sight has been denyed by distance, my ears could amend, but for one ring.
There is much to learn from rocks and islands. Though the lessons be hard, and the results quite bitter, the tears wouldn't come and my heart wouldn't bleed.
Why do we break the gentle friend? Why do we push past when the company of friends is often all we truely need?
Such selfishness disguised as love brings shame to me. Such high hopes, and higher expectations. Could the broken bird survive such pressure from all sides? Or, in my eagerness to save, did I suffocate her song?
Now, realizing my errors, I try to save the past yet unlived. But history, though ever changing, doesn't let damaged love rewrite.
So, through torn hand and battered life, through choking love and fallen friends, through a life lived forgotten and love lived in pain she tries to survive.
And all I want now is to hold her near... to ease the pain.
And...
to call her my friend.
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