I want to tell her that I love her, but I doubt she’d understand.
I want to tell how beautiful she is, but I doubt she’d hear a word I’d say.
I want to sing to her this song I’ve written, but I doubt she’d hear the melody.
When yesterday’s drums beat loudly in your mind, your heart can hardly listen. When past wounds have you recoil from the moment’s grace, your feet will slide down muddy slopes. When caught in the avalanche of fear, your wings shall be surely broken.
I’d rather be alone than suffer through a repeat of those lessons I have learned. I’d rather stand mighty at the summit, alone in my view, then be left playing marbles at its base with the stones of fear others grasp with such devotion. I must walk, and climb; that I cannot change.
I want to show her what I see, but her eyes remain fixed on the bridges she cannot seem to burn.
I want to dance with her around a fire of pure and holy desire, but she’s afraid of the darkness of the night.
I want to love her in the solitude, but it’s the silence she fears the most.
And, so, I let her go. Forevermore.