To the girl who cannot love,
I know not what to say
to ease the pain, erase the ache
Of love you lost in former days.
A tragic figure carved here,
Bitten by the sting of life,
Not despondent, just downhearted,
A chary girl, twice as shy.
Cautious, yes, but not too lost
For liveliness and gaiety;
Are these your shield and succour
‘Gainst the self: alone, not lonely?
What painted lips essay to cover,
Reveals itself in joyless eyes;
The shroud: effect, not the purpose,
I will not say your smile lies.
Your lips tell a truth of their own:
A defiant will against this ‘life’,
Though the word is indefinable,
Like the love one day you hope to find.
Can you grasp that wispy form,
Or claim a land that has no border?
Then what hope did you ever have
Of your hunted prey to corner?
Are you sure, this love, you’d recognize,
If it found you out tomorrow–
A fire, ablaze in truest form,
Mixed of grace and hope and sorrow?
I’ve seen a depth of love before
No mortal man could ever reach,
And found myself lost in rapture,
Quiet before the mercy seat.
Those feelings lost, which you now grieve,
Could have never quenched your heart–
A heart that’s known some loss and pain,
Affairs of friendships torn apart.
But there is love not to be found;
This is love that seeks for you,
Finding you where you are now,
But redeems and cleanses, too.
So I cannot hope you find
Everything you’re looking for,
But I pray that you receive
The love I’ve known that’s so much more.