Poetry of Love Saves a Lonely Soul

All alone in despair--

A child waiting out the sun

With the wind in his hair--

The night will soon fall

And he will lay himself down

Where the river runs through.

No older than a cub

No stronger than a doe

No bigger than a fawn

But smart like a wolf,

And sinewy too,

He can slink and slide

In his natural habitat

'Til he finds what he needs.

And he will too,

For she will appear

As Myrth, named so

To break the child's spell

And bring him up to where

He will stand on the peak

Of that mountain in the sky.

It was in the Chaste valley

Where he first saw her halo

Shining among the trees

Without her form in view.

But now he moves around her

And sees her everywhere,

For Myrth captured his heart

Out there on that lonely road,

In that Sibyline forest

Where they now run free

And plan to grow old,

And where despair

Is replaced by Myrth.