Lonely River Song
Where do I start
to tell what happens when a fool falls in love?
Right or wrong, I knew I’d never smile again.
I fell to pieces when her words on summer winds
kept repeating how we would never meet again.
Where do I go alone?
Funny, how a love can slip away
how a heart can be broken in a day
how the angel of my mornings went astray
and how long and lonely nights can stay
and not fade away.
Where do I go to die?
Take me to the river. It is time for me to say goodbye.
I can’t stop loving her for as long as I try.
So why am I living, could someone tell me why?
As the lazy river whispers, “ You were born to die”
the summer wind repeats her last goodbye.
Where do I find the courage?
The lonely river’s flowing slowly to the sea
like the way we were when loving tenderly
but it’s impossible she won’t return to me.
So big river, I am leaving it up to you
take this pain from my heart or take all of me.
Where do I find the answers?
Was it love or just words of love in twilight
for only love can break a foolish heart?
Here comes the night, and in its misty moonlight
the end of my world has me running scared tonight.
My heartbeat’s daring me into eternal midnight.
Where do I go from here?
On this bridge, over waters that are tempting
to carry me, her words echo unrelenting.
My special angel has dropped her broken wings
and by starlight her goodbye is still tormenting
while I await my destiny and my ending.
How do I close?
- Author: MendedFences27 ( Offline)
- Published: May 1st, 2017 10:08
- Comment from author about the poem: A sad tale of lost love, but with hidden(?) musical allusions: Song titles and such, too many to count.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 131
Comments3
When love is lost, all of those things like songs and special places become something to avoid to avoid the memories. But, I think that it is not those things that are at fault. They are innocent through all of the turmoil. Just the human condition of trying to relate and obtain great memories. Great one Phil! As usual 🙂
The music speaks to our core during times like these.
its not over until the fat lady sings ..
I imagine this to have been a lot harder than one might initially think ..
How about Frank Sinatra's I did it my way... 🙂
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.