I’d like to know how long you lay your head where I lay mine,
Where I now lie you lied, at last our lies are intertwined.
I wonder if you cast your thoughts, as I, across these walls,
And stained their perfect, chalky tones with unseen, bitter scrawls.
I live one life where here I lie; my lies support my strength.
I live another far away, a world of which I’ve dreamt
Of showing you, yet such a hope, with each new day curtails.
My dreams grow weak, your face now blurs, imagination fails
To conjure up new happy days, of ships and far-off lands,
Of laughter, sights and heady scents, and amber-tinted sands.
Tis though my mind is tired of lies, not only yours, but mine,
And to a world of greyest hues I wearily resign:
A world of tears, and children’s cries, low hum of discontent,
And pain, a world kept from my eyes until that day you left.
Confusion reigns beneath these stars, which each day higher rise,
Enslaved by clouds of blackest ink, which taint the Night’s dark skies.
Now blame and hate are wretched things, which I would ne’er assign,
To other’s deeds, least yours my love, my bitterness is mine.
Yet like rich wines that slow turn bad, imaginations sour,
Thus here I lie with conquered heart, beneath this self-made bower.
The darkest tree in my heart grows, and dense my soul surrounds;
Come back, I beg, for you alone could break my darkness down.