What, my love, hast thou forthgone
in the black and misty shades of dawn
Where, my love, hast thou forlorn
my heart, my neck, my sunny morn?
Oh, so many, many miles to go
and ever since mankind does know
where west, where south, where east, where north
he wandered, turned and chose henceforth.
With every step and every stone
choices made, well wisely or unbeknown
lift one foot and then the other
hardly grounded, prone to hover.
Where, my love, hast thou forthgone
chances fade, precisely weighed or vague
lift my hood and then my lover
see my shadows all displayed.
Oh, so free, so youthful every choice
with every sunrise, every black and misty dawn
footsteps fade but lines that life has drawn
persist – are sometimes hard to poise.
What, I ask the shades of rain,
is my unit, and the toehold for my scale –
Whats worth fighting though’s prone to fail
in blow or on the edge of blades in vain?
Oh, so many, many turns to make
and ever since mankind did wake
from cloudy nights or gleamy days
empowered to persist or give away.