|
|
|
I sit alone and ask out loud: Who will come and lift this shroud? This dark shroud of pain, Pouring out in a pounding rain. When will I be able to see, A love made for me? A love that has no end, Going ever round each river bend. Where is the one who will, Walk with me over every hill? Each hill which portrays a problem, So that together we may solve them. How will I be able to see, That she is right for me? Right in every way, Hearing everything I say. Shall I know at first sight, That the girl is right? This girl who will be, Everything to me. Will everything be clear, or seen as through a tear? A tear of great pain, Falling down like rain. Why must I wait so long, Am I paying for some wrong? A wrong that I’ve committed, In this life I’ve knitted. Have I not been trying to find, Someone I may have left behind? Someone who might have been, The penance for my sin. What could it be that holds me back, Something, maybe that I lack? Something which would help me see, Who the right girl could be. Should I try harder to find, A signal, or a sign? A sign which would show, From where love would flow. Am I even in the right place, To look for this pretty face? A face which will shine, On down the line. Is it possible that I may have missed, The girl for which I’ve always wished? Wished with all my heart, Only to be popped by a dart. Has it become a lost cause, Or do I continue onward in my search, Under every stone, round each birch. Which way should I move on, Trying to find the way she’s gone? The way which lies well concealed, Even though every limb I’ve peeled. Could I truly say that she isn’t real, With each new wound that I peel> Wounds which have formed on my search, Wounds which hinder, and make me lurch. Yet now do I see a blessed sight, A light which shines through the night? Can it be this girl I’ve found, Even her upon this ground? Yes it really is true, For this girl is you.
|
