Xavier Keough Poet I do not know?

Lover's Cry

Oh, how we struggle to know thyself
when desire cripples honesty 
in the tunnel of our confusion
as the ivory trumpet plays the Lover’s Cry
Oh, do we see our own reflection
beneath the world’s glare
in the mist of personal adoration
as the ivory trumpet plays the Lover’s Cry
Oh, how the soul fights the battle
between flesh and mind
in the bosom of our holy maker
as the ivory trumpet plays the Lover’s Cry 
Oh, how words can shatter intimacy’s embrace
without intent or explanation
in the bedroom of our vulnerable assumptions 
as the ivory trumpet plays the Lover’s Cry
Who, shall ask the questions to understand
beyond our excuses
in the hearts of those lost to yesterday
as the ivory trumpet plays the Lover’s Cry

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