Behind The Smile Poem by The_ Writer

When Fortune's storm at last did cease its rage,
I found a hearth, a coin, a gentler mind;
Yet swift the heavens turned another page,
And left my resting place and peace behind.
For golden wage I wandered far from home,
Yet richer purse hath made my spirit poor;
By night with mine own haunted thoughts I roam,
And grief beats hard upon my hidden door.

The maid I love knows not the wars I keep,
Nor sees the tears I choke ere seeking sleep;
My newfound friend believes my heart is light,
Whilst I, undone, still smile to veil the night.
My grasp grows weak; mine inner fiends draw near,
And Death doth whisper as the end of fear.