Maid For Other Lands Poem by Christian Muller

In coldest crimson light of breaking dawn.
She left me for the dream of better lands.
And so, she left my sinking soul forlorn.
As her soft clasp slipped from my haggard hands.
Her fleeting smile outshone the waking light.
The total sum of all her portraits fair.
Were pale compared to that departing sight.
Of fleeting beauty, leaving unaware.
Of the love I always held in my soft heart.
Without a word, what could I do but stare?
As I watched her this broken land depart.
For fairer fields where she will spend her days.
And bless a better land with brightest rays.