To walk in the midst of your tragic views
Reveals the heart of your darkness, so true
And why should you ask what my heart said
Why even come to me, as if we're still friends
You beckoned me come, then for me to leave
As if your holy presence could make me see
By the miracles that happen when you love
Know your love is a desert, never enough
I'd rather reenter the lunatic asylum forever
Than to countenance us ever being together
No, again I'll tell you, no, and again still no
As for the reasons, I think you should know
“He felt the old bitterness, which he had tried
so hard to swallow, rise again in his throat,
and he knew there are disappointments that
last as long as life.” Henry James
