I heard that you loved me, It may have come from the whisper in my ear, As you spread your breath throughout the Universe, Kept me spellbound with the comma that you used. I heard that you loved me, It may have come from a word or two you've written, As the ink you poured from your soul, Streaked upon the stained paper of my mind. I heard that you loved me, It didn't come from what you've done, In your absence I only heard your fear, As you fought one destiny with the sword of another. Because though I heard you loved me, My reality is different from that dream. As I lay my head to rest in the the pasture, I only share myself with blades of grass that save me from the grave. Yes, I heard that you loved me, Perhaps it was an echo from some oath once spoken in a cave, Or some twinkle from a star burned out so many years ago, A man wobbled in his humanity, seeking balance in the shade. For I lived when I heard that you have loved me, And died in the moment written by an empty, outstretched hand, No more to call your name for now I am shouting against the wind, Deafness comes especially harsh to those who wish to hear. Now, I heard that you love me, With every crunching of the stones beneath my feet, As I head west, and you stay east, The Sun now setting, but it surely will rise again.