Holding Hands In Sorrow Is At Least Holding Hands.
If tomorrow, I gave the world my eyes
Sorrow and hurt would be seen
If I gave them my mouth for a disguise
Filth and despair would be keen
If I could bare to spare them my nose
Smoke and mildew would be a natural smell
Praise the saints in heaven and, hell full of foes
For a man like me tastes nothing but farewell
If the crowd obtained my heart, it might just bleed
But for the seeds of sadness melt and wash their feet
Holding clammy hearts and beating tattered hands, speed
While an exquisite lady and I become complete
As I take it all back and give it to the final one
My mind is reminded of an intertwined mankind
So I give everything to one, my one redone
Re made into my lovely maid, as our hearts combined
In my eyes she sees only the lightest hue
My finger tips trail her lips as my nose smells beauty
For my soul undergoes a tangling of anew
Holding my love and kissing her in confidences is my duty
My heart slumbers and she holds on to me, even while she dreams
Without her, my visions are nothing, just thoughtless schemes
She is my everything even in my dying breath
I will hold onto her heart, as she has mine, even in death
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