Dain Greathouse (10/11/1973 / U.S.)
A Psalm of Love
The love we had was more than life itself
And what we felt was more than what was said,
But I am now alone and all is darkness;
What once was beautiful is dead.
Your hands once held this book and turned the pages
And I've seen your image in this mirrored glass;
These things do not remember you, my love
And yet your touch will never pass.
It was within my heart you moved among them
And blessed them with your hands and eyes
And in my heart they always remember
That they knew you once, O beautiful and wise.
My heart has hardened on the anvil.
Every night the furnace moans and sings
And the hammer crashes down to bring
Fire to my soul, forging it as iron
Tempered with sweet memories of you.
My heart has become as dry as this landscape
So empty and so haunting and familiar;
As phantom shadows dance and whispers linger past
Memories faded, yet determined not to die.
My heart is torn but it's not the only one;
A million prayers drift and fade away,
But this prayer is mine and it is holy
Until it is whispered and thus is wasted away.
The moon rides high in melancholy splendor,
Casting a glow of hope through winter skies
Of another world, another place, another time;
I close my eyes to see you once again
And then I feel -
A breath upon my cheek...
From the wind that gently whispers
Words that passed away, forgotten
But never from my heart
My heart will always remember.
But I am reminded once again, my dear beloved
That there's an endless desert now between us,
Desolate and empty save for stars
Dancing in the void that separates us...
You, so high above -
And me, trapped and waiting down below.
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