O, to you, my once love filled foolish heart,
When didst thou become such an empty black vessel?
Once when youngedness was not a crime,
thou wert full of love’s sweet nectar; but alas no more.
As time did pass, and each sweet vision did depart,
they took with them a cupful of that which thou couldst not truly afford.
But generous to fault, you gave of yourself freely and deeply,
deeper than thou couldst spare I fear.
Now as age doth approach at a rapid-ing pace, what will become of thee?
Must thou now live empty for all eternity?
Hope in future, hope in humanity, hope in love.
That someday soon, one will cometh, filled with the juice of life.
True in form and of feeling, not a vision will she be,
whose gentle sweet words whispered, will echo through thine neglected chambers,
and once more vibrate thou back from emptiness,
painting thy cold hard surface with th’vibrant colours of youth.
Maybe tis then thou shalt be refilled with th’warm sweet nectar of love.
