The mellow, despondent tunes
Of the singer-songwriter
Births the ache of bygone moons
For a poet-warrior.

Sewing with the common thread
Of the heart's lone betrayal,
He weaves a cloak of tears shed
Which warms none and fits a fool.

For how long must we engage
In this disillusionment?
Are we not wiser with age
To solve this predicament?

For its prudent that I must
Unshackle my heart in this.
For what do you know of trust
You, who plays hearts with her kiss?

So I gather my strength
And toss the coat aside.
I've worn it for much too long
And it's time to leave the night.