Our journals of love, I do carry
Three year have passed since my lover's death.
Wish her own , she took my breath.
Shadows around me move on their own,
I See a face made of sacred stone.
My darling angel, where are you now ?
To live this life, I do not know how.
Staring at me is the jilted moon,
Who never had her over which to swoon.
Six centuries shared has turned into six feet
The wholeness once felt has become incomplete.
I hang my head to weep at our separation.
To fully experience what is now desperation.
As I hang my head, I do not know why .
But I feel eyes staring at me as I cry.
When will the season of winter pass from my heart ?
And I know, it is when we are no longer apart.

