The Sympathy-Stricken Grief

For once again the moonlight clear

Illumines woe upon your brow

That settles silver in your hair

And etches deep the time ‘til now.

Lines spreading deeply cross your cheek,

A tear whose course is carved in black

That from your eyes then spreads your grief,

And slowly grows, devoid of tact.

My heart begins to beat your pain,

I follow in the course you steer,

Held captive while your sadness reigns

So deep I cannot feel, but hear,

            And know that while such sadness holds

            Nothing stops us from growing old.