Too Soon

Press your fingers on the wound
We can’t
We can’t allow the blood
To leak away–this is too soon
A love no memory can fill

Breathe again–you cannot stop
I want
I need your eyes to move
Do not succumb collapse and swoon
These gashes surely have to heal

Take my hand–you must respond
I won’t
I cannot leave you now
If only just an utterance
Bestow a sound upon my ears

Look within these pleading eyes
We were
We are the stronger sort
No matter how our heart is hurt
The pain reminds us it is there

Oh, agony has pricked
Into the depths of what I hoped
But still the battle rages deep
Beneath the skin of my desire

Oh, the beauty we inflict
Upon a world that never knew
Has been distorted into blame
To feed the embers of our fire

Oh, you know I’d give the last
Of every breath I’ve yet to take
To pull you safely from the fray
Into the circle of my heart

Oh, you cannot slip away
Beneath the torrent of this pain
There is so much for which to stay
And I am not retreating yet

When I Get Tired Of You

When I get tired of you
The leaves on the trees will have died
All the flowers have folded
And the forest have withered and dried

When I get tired of you
Singers will run out of songs
Lovers will have no more passion
Streets will be rid of their throngs

When I get tired of you
Books will be blank without words
Seasons will cease from their turning
Dawn will be failing to stir

When I get tired of you
The sun will have melted away
Earth will be frozen and barren
And colors all faded to gray

When I get tired of you
The stars will have burnt out their light
The heavens plunged deep into darkness
And angels have long lost their sight

When I get tired of you
My body will lay without motion
My heart will be still in it’s beating
My mind be devoid of devotion

When I get tired of you
Time will have slowed to a stand
All of the elements shattered
God lost the strength in his hand

When I get tired of you
No one will be there to see
Because I can’t get tired of you
So please don’t get tired of me

It mocks me there–the empty chair
So calm, it sits
And acts as if
It hasn’t any care

It taunts me there–the empty chair
A quiet form
That once was warm
When you were sitting there

This wretched pair–the empty chair
And I, we sit
Like counterfeits
And each exchange a stare

It isn’t fair–the empty chair
I wish, I wish
For only this:
That you were sitting there

Today I saw a curiosity
In a shop window
A faint writing etched in glass
But as I drew near it vanished in a haze

Then, once further on, it appeared to me
In a vagrant cloud
As if blotted on the plume
But as I observed it faded in a wisp

Words–unclear–that I struggled long to read
In that fleeting glimpse
To no avail my eyes strained
But presently appeared to be too distant

Then, in the night, upon my pillow crept
And as my eyes closed
Read clear, impressed upon my brain
The thought my eye reflected was: “uoy ssim I”