If time was only to ponder,
if eyes were made to dream alone…
I would make a memory ,
where flowers never withered
and lovers never moaned…
If dewdrops made a castle true,
if lilies bloomed in the desert sands
if dreams were realised on lonesome nights
I would play the harp of the wandering bands…
When the whispering winds
echo in the cold ears
whilst I sit alone on a winter night;
It feels like music to my ears
as I pen my love for you
in blood and tears…
As I wander
in a lone valley,
and your visage
my eyes wish to glance;
Then I look at the beauty of simple things
like a dawning rainbow
or wild flowers with sweet fragrance…
And thus,
when my age will start to wrinkle
my heart will still wait for you,
where birds sing on winter nights
till death turns them blue…