Love’s Last Stance

Piercing sorrow blinds like sand in a storm
Blowing unmercifully to swallow the bitter end.

What sorrow must endure the blue hue of unending
Despair of longing so lovingly but never so close to touch
The smallest of miracles so fond and in love, with a
Torch lit without a match.

Fallen heroes have heard as much of the ending of the ages
when wanting was that and never more.

What price is paid for the love, of a miracle
That untold ages could never have changed
The wanting desires of life’s greatest joy.

�©2004