God! Was I a fool to spend my words in ink
When perhaps they should have never spilled?
But either way, what’s done is done,
for the moon and stars and setting sun.
But, I pray, hear my heart and not the words I speak,
for the harder I try the less sense I make,
so shall we hold our peace
or take the chances we may not need?
Somehow, I know this all too well;
that hearts too hidden do soon break.
Whisper to me, at least, that nothing will ever change
since the moments we’ve had can never be remade.
And oh! To tremble,
and learn the way to breathe!
To write the story with no thought of the ending,
and find what we all desperately seek!
But in the end, I will hold silence
and keep this all hidden away,
for the moment, at least,
until we know what sort of story we’ll make.
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