• No uttered words the poet speaks,
    No skies of golden hue,
    No tales of unrequited love,
    They were lost when I lost you.

    No words to caress her lovers heart,
    And gone the dreams she swore theyd live,
    But alone within the poet dwells,
    No uttered words... none left to give.

    No music swells within her soul,
    Just silence surrounds her heart,
    And the solitude engulfs her world,
    When the poet and love depart.

    And lost the beauty she once could see,
    And the glory she saw each day,
    Now the poet pens her last farewell,
    No more love can she convey.

    But whats the poets soul to do?
    To release the love she feels,
    For she'll surely die and wither,
    If that love she now conceals.

    She must hide the hurt and heartache,
    Just smile to friends and say,
    I'm fine...love doesnt matter,
    And deceive them all that way.

    For a different face she'll show them
    To barricade her pain,
    To hide her shattered spirit,
    From the love she never attaned.

    But the pain within shall kill her,
    Not soon but through the years,
    For the poet knows her anguish,
    When alone she sheds her tears.

    And at night when dreams come calling,
    With his voice, his smile... his eyes,
    A single tear upon his cheek,
    Hides the pain of hier heart.

    For she loved his soul completely,
    Was consumed by beautys bliss
    Had shared his inner thoughts,
    But never shared his kiss.

    And when death comes to the poet,
    And to heaven her soul ascends,
    She'll smile before his beauty,
    For eternity never ends.

    So will the poet regret the life,
    Which stole away the years,
    No she'll simply recall the love,
    She felt in all her tears.

    And when her love has joined her,
    And they meet in heaven's bliss,
    Their regrets will quickly perish,
    As they kiss their first sweet kiss.

    And the words will quickly flow again,
    From my thoughts, to hand...
    I'll not write of God or Heaven,
    When upon your face I look.

    So the poet's again a poet,
    For the words were always there,
    I just didn't see much beauty,
    When your love I couldn't share.

    So their souls will find the love at last,
    That in life they could not seek,
    And the poet soon finds the words in you...
    The words... she could not speak.