The End

I walk the lonely streets,
And the dark retreats
Of night, and day, and dawn
And look for a way to timidly say,
'I do not want to be alone from here on.'

I walk the star brightened nights,
And see the lover's fights
Of passion, and ecstasy, and rage
And look for a reason of passion or treason
But find none, and turn the page.

I have seen the fearful highs and lows
Of love that quickly comes and goes,
But find no true feeling in the end.
I feel my heart is spent, and I will not repent,
For I see no reason for my feelings to mend.

I have seen the blood and rage of lovers' sin,
And have not thought of what has happened therein.
But I often wonder, what is it that made love go wrong?
Is it weakness or envy that they saw in me,
That made this 'perfect love' say, 'So long'?

That is what it says, 'So long', and 'Farewell',
As it leaves me to reside in my hell.
But as I have learned, from the time I burned,
That I cannot make people see what it is that is in me
Which makes me so agitated and concerned.

I dare not even now to try to explain,
What it is that makes me so insane.
I will say that it is the friendly way
That people lead me and the way they feed me,
The lies of love and promise that are so easy to say.

I walk these lonely streets and wonder
In the dark retreats, that if I sought and sunder
My heart of its weaknesses and its ways,
That I could be free and have myself foresee
Of one day that I will die in a lover's gaze.