Sad Beauty
Inside my breast, an empty aching heart
beats for no reason since we're apart.
Each day, the sun across the sky does swing.
I wonder when I will not feel the sting
of when, from my life, you did depart.
To feel, once more, the warmth that orb did bring,
As when I last heard your voice's gay ring,
I look on the vivid field of flowers,
from my balcony for weeks, days, and hours,
and carefree birds fluttering on the wing.
Yet as comes the Autumn, Winter, and Spring,
and these bright birds, so beautifully sing,
until up my walk, you come back to me,
only sadness will I hear and see,
like each melancholy violin string.
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