When time was a dream, before tear-stained eyes,
Meetings on the summit, touching the sky.
No thought of loss, nor the river I'd cry
That would drown the dream in appeasive disguise.
Lazy days under the monument of dawn.
Blind to the hands by whose whim we'd be torn -
Destroying the confidence of time, and born
To a solitude of echoes and curtains drawn.
Take me to the place where the shadows go to hide;
Where the light that reveals them diminishes and dies.
I knew not the truth, yet I spoke not a lie;
I knew not the feelings remaining nameless inside.
Though the echo of my chest, when beaten, is hollow,
My heart would restart should she return tomorrow.
Lacking the means, but wishing never to borrow,
The face in the fire I will always follow.