Apocalypse

Of lost love.

When in the translation of fragile emotions
all feeling is lost
When the wolf howls out in distress
And flower's no longer bloom.

Where my love will you be?

When the day's are long, and the nights longer still
When the moon no longer shines in the heaven's
And darkness envelopes you like a shroud.

Where will you be?

You hear the broken cries of a mother
for a lost and abandoned child
And all the river's have run their final course and are no more.

Darling where will you be?

Then at long times lasting you turn your eyes to me
To that vacant spot
Where I once stood.

Then I wonder my dearest love
Where will I be?

Author's Note

The future is nothing, but the past is myself, my own history, the seed of my presnt thought's, the mould of my present disposition.