Drown

Old, forgotten tales of love
Weaved by lowered eyes
Few of which you understand
Glances and gentle sighs.

Of eternal, afterlife promises,
Of bartering life with god,
Withering smiles awaken,
Pathways together trod.

Not destined to receive,
The love you hanker for,
That act demands largesse
And pain worth dying for.

Those lips may never touch
And fingers never weave,
Nights not turn to evenings
And breaths never heave.

But nothing less will matter
And nothing less will live
Drown you must to sail again
Drown and still believe.

Find you may in a person,
In a voice, a place, a song
Find you may in a mirror,
With you, walking along.