Holding Hands In Sorrow Is At Least Holding Hands.

If tomorrow, I gave the world my eyes Sorrow and hurt would be seen If I gave them my mouth for a disguise Filth and despair would be keen If I could bare to spare them my nose Smoke and mildew would be a natural smell Praise the saints in heaven and, hell full of foes For a man like me tastes nothing but farewell If the crowd obtained my heart, it might just bleed But for the seeds of sadness melt and wash their feet Holding clammy hearts and beating tattered hands, speed While an exquisite lady and I become complete As I take it all back and give it to the final one My mind is reminded of an intertwined mankind So I give everything to one, my one redone Re made into my lovely maid, as our hearts combined In my eyes she sees only the lightest hue My finger tips trail her lips as my nose smells beauty For my soul undergoes a tangling of anew Holding my love and kissing her in confidences is my duty My heart slumbers and she holds on to me, even while she dreams Without her, my visions are nothing, just thoughtless schemes She is my everything even in my dying breath I will hold onto her heart, as she has mine, even in death