Like Prickly thorns on a rose
Grimly, waiting before a death
The struggles to make our ends worthy
The dreary wait to see her once again
My weary eyes longing to meet hers again
This wait is no stranger to me, not to any silent lover
It is beauty to observe
The time we spend is all I will have to my fear
Those stairs have heard her stories along with me
That road has walked with us together
Those drops witnessed her beauty with me
And the corridors will remember me walking away every time