It was mid-July when we walked the fields of former battle
The heat was strong enough to drip sweat from the cattle
That grazed in the wheat-filled plots where not so long ago
There was a skirmish, a fight, a quarrel, you know.
We walked down the lane, hand in hand.
You were my girl and I was your man
At least that's how it was before you stopped
And allowed our hands to come apart, to drop.
You coughed and complained about the heat
And the sickness you thought that you had beat.
But, it stayed persistent in your system, my dear,
You hacked some more and wouldn't let me near.
When we climbed a mighty tower made of stone, long ago
Where the ancient snipers picked their targets below,
I extended an arm to wrap around your side,
Yet you moved away..and sighed.
Oh my Muse of former splendor...
What has made you lose this love and surrender?
Was it your sickness that ended our love
Or was it another reason, known only to those above?
As we left that mighty, stoney spire
My love had begun to perspire.
Wilting and wasting like the flowers in this vase.
That others gave to me, in mourning..to try to replace.
Replace what my love? This hopeless yearning?
That somewhere an essence of you is constantly burning?
Melting hot with the flames of our passion
That has passed long ago like last fall's spring fashion?
You and I, we came to a place to rest.
A bench in a room of glass and room, made by the best.
You rested your head on me, as the sun set.
As of that day? Try as I might to not remember...
I never forget.