by Luis G. Dato

Your tears and sighs and loneliness conspire
To cast a shadow o’er this calm moonrise,
As lone as you weep by wakeless tombs where lies
Some being dearest to your heart’s desire,
Your prayers soar to happy heavens higher
Where fines romance her fairer, loftier skies,
For one you pray but hide from human eyes
The deep despair that wrecked your loves empire.

You come to mourn when I too mourn the fate
Of frail illusions that with night have flown,
You come to find faith’s broken form frustrate
In man who moans for no grief but his own,
You take me from the strife of love and hate
Which passion, passing, in my heart has sown.

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