Beyond Love

Beyond Love

He walks alone in a crowd of the dead,
He knowingly measures his steps,
The autumn leaves, they crunch ‘neath his feet,
As he travels the long dirt road.

He approaches the home of his loved one so dear,
So cold now to him she will be,
Not speaking, not moving, not touching, not loving,
Yet love is all he holds for her.

He longs to be soothed by her soft, warm words,
He tells it to unhearing ears,
He misses the soft, gentle kiss that she gave,
In the mornings as he left for work.

He’s missed the long talks in the afternoon sun,
And their strolls on the beach after dark,
He tells her how pretty she looked when she blushed,
And how fragrant she’d been all their days.

He tells her he loves her, how always he will,
He never could love another,
He’s keeping his promise from ten years ago,
From the day on which she breathed her last.

In pain, he gets down, he kneels by her bed,
He places the roses above her,
He whispers sweet nothings, then picks up his cane,
He struggles to get himself up.

He turns to leave, not wanting to go,
He walks a few paces then stops,
As he hobbles away, he whispers to her,
“I’ll be back next week, my love.”

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