I wish to hold you..
what tears fall from my eyes in your agonizing depression;
oh, how I wish to nurture this fragile utopia I have found...
a beauty beyond my eyes, and far beyond reach for my time.
I wish I could have held your hands, protecting the small ones my hands would have been.
Oh, what a wonderful feeling... and now everything fades and nothing remains.
All is still, all is still.
A beautiful song from a music box...
one that plays a sad song everyday.
let this song express eternally; it may no longer play for us.
Now it is destroyed by the lies that plagued it before.
Oh, how I wish to cherish this music box,
and keep it with me every second, every minute, every hour, every day,
every month, every year, every decade, every century...
all is still, all is still.
My love, my friend, my brother, my angel of music;
oh, how I wish to end the tears that suddenly, yet frequently take to my eyes.
It's not what you would want... it's not what you'd want..
But I believe you would dry these tears from the storm cloud
which follows me around as it did you.
Oh, how I wish to kiss the bruises of your anger, your pain, your sadness.
All is still, all is still.
Oh, how I wish your numerous visits to the pillar would have ceased.
How I wish you never had to cry.
How I wish, how I wish, how I wish... that those tassels would have scarred me and not you,
for I would have taken your burdens as my own.
How I wish these lonely piano keys were stained in my blood, and not yours.
How I wish these tears you cried were happy tears.
All is still, all is still.
And here we are;
your light is bright and glorifies all that you are.
Here, in my clearing cloud, your light passes through and shines beautifully.
The light of the sensitive children who live frightened in both of us, crying, begging, gone astray.
How I wish for the best, although it's in my heart.
...always hard to say goodbye, when we never said hello, and here you are.
All is still, all is still.
When I have become the sick and dying,
when I have become the poor and crying,
when I have become the lame and lonely,
when I have become the one and only;
when I have become the soul faded by melancholy
that broke a darkened dawn...
all is still, all is still.
But for you, I remain smiling.
For you, I help the sick and dying.
For you, I friend the poor and crying.
But I am still the lame and lonely.
But for you, the one and only, who begins to mend my shattered body, and released your soul.
The glass figurine was for everyone who cherished;
who wanted to hold, lull, comfort, kiss the forehead of;
to be loved for all eternity, for all time,
to have and to hold, until death do us together again.
All is still.... all is still.
©LJ
2 September 2013;
revised 25 March 2014
