May, the seventh

A great man warms the hand of a princess
The day is the seventh,
Of a rich May

When love stretches the skies, bounding two hearts
The rings of gold

The Lord blesses souls
A good thing he found,
And a favour he received

Bless the earth with thy seeds,
And let he be blessed,
He that blesses thou and thy family

Oneness of the heart trumps all
The bravest woman shades all
And seeks counsel,
from the divine

She tides his suit,
Readies the dinner table
And flogs her man,
Else his eye strays

Of course he doesn’t,
For the roses are young
And the moon is full
So they lay,
Resting on their honeymoon

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On the far beyond

I smile at the falling rains,
But cry within,
Letting the cold drops wash my tears
Before the dawn of the sun

I walk with my head raised high,
But,
with a withering spirit,
I stride along a lone path

This life,
A voyage on the sea
Amidst ripples and waves,
Searching for a significance

With the winds against my sails
Broken,
The mast,
and the compass

So I bury my grief,
Casting my eyes unto the stars
That even though my moon hides,
I sail

And to my grave,
Shall I carry my scars,
With these bleeding wounds,
To heal on the far beyond

image

I changed

The fact that you left,
On that same day,
Did I change

A heart shuttered,
Bruising my soul,
And these scars to bear

Did I find love again?
Falling from a cliff,
Where you left me crying,

Did I wish me dead?
When this heart ached endlessly,
Through the many winter nights

Oh! yes I did!
Cuddled edges of my pillow,
And sobbed to never let go

Before the sun came,
And dried my tears,
With rays of golden light

Along with melodic harmonies,
Of weavers and sparrows,
That it was just a past,

And that the future,
Stood, not far away,
With his arms, wide open,
To heal my wounds

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