You are dead, dead, dead, my darling,
Stolen from me by shadowed fate.
What eyes did once shine before me.
What tears of love and joy did fall from there.
But now your gaze is glassy cold,
No spark of dancing spirits; the flames are snuffed.
I scream, I scream, "Awake! Awake!"
But only the sighing strings answer me.
Horns groan out my dark despair.
The earth beckons you with stony fanfare.
I stand alone over the ruins of my tattered life, spade in hand.
A funeral symphony fills my mind
Heralding the death of my spirit.
I've lost my guiding star,
And now I stumble in the darkness.

George Chadderdon © 1991