Too long was I denied her touch:
the woman, who I loved too much.
Blonde-tressed, with eyes that glowed and gleamed:
a goddess girl, or so it seemed
to me, when I was cursed with youth,
condemned to taste the tragic truth
that she, who was the world to me,
may never be my destiny.
Too far into the Shadowland
she walked, when she let go my hand.
Into that cruel abyss beyond,
dark-haired became, no longer blonde.
For she did change, but so did I:
star-cross’d beneath a savage sky
and star-cross’d love, of course, includes
those never-ending interludes,
where lovers’ paths do so diverge;
they separate, with sorrow’s surge,
that wipes the footprints from the sand
they made, while walking hand in hand.
Too long apart to merge or melt
together; that is how I felt
before fair hair turned grey like skies
and magic sparkled in our eyes.