The Reason This Man Cries.

 

Anguished tears stream down his face,

He’s out of his mind; he’s lost in space.

Drinks more wine to numb his pain,

He thinks it helps to keep him sane.

 

Lovely lady dressed in black,

Stole his heart and threw it back.

Took his soul then squeezed it dry,

Now that’s the reason this man cries.

 

He cries for love that’s lost and gone,

The kind that made him feel real strong.

The kind that gave him some self worth,

And made him glad to walk this earth.

 

Together they went to a sacred place,

She looked at him right in the face.

Then spoke the words he longed to hear,

And her words to him were very clear.

 

She told him, “together they would be,

A possible future that she could see.”

Two days later all had changed,

His life now never can be the same.

 

Oh pagan lady, his Celtic queen.

The fairest maiden he’s ever seen.

His love for you as pure as light,

Now cast away in endless night.

 

Confidence waning, he’s losing his pride,

With No one to turn to, no place to hide.

No one to hold him and make him feel whole,

No one to love him, no, no one at all.

 

So now he sits and weeps alone,

And shuts himself, away at home.

He knows a part of him has died,

Brought about by veiled white lies.

 

So as I pen this man’s swan-song,

His time with Wendy now long gone.

It shouldn’t be hard for you to see,

That this broken man is really me.

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