The autumn air is full of scents
as if to prove the truth and worth
of beauty in decay.
It lifts my flagging spirits up.
My sadness drains away.
Breathing deeply I inhale,
and exhale all my pain,
but then I journey on to home
and I am lost again.

I feel as though I cannot rise.
However much the sun may shine
it’s fractured through a screen of tears.

Like morning mists that softly fade
or shattered rainbows after rain,
love always disappears.

I seek it deep, inside my heart,
but doubt that I can prise it out
and feel the fault is mine.

I hope and pray, and scream and shout,
that all may pass in time
or sleep will come and I forget
that you were ever nearly mine
while I still wanted more.

Love’s a torment.
Love is cruel
Love rips me to my core
and proves that I’m as much a fool
as I was before.

I dare not look ahead or back
for there’s no more of love in life
than loneliness or dread permits

and so i go
along the road,
the road that lies ahead,
on and on, the road ahead,
until the light is dead