The Ache Inside of Me

Seems like yesterday I watched your fingers
play the piano, and heard your music unfold.
In memories, the romantic vision of us lingers,
though love's symphony dulled like tarnished gold.

When we were together, you wrote for me,
songs you scored day and night to compose
of the passion between an oak and willow tree,
Lyrics sweet as the fragrant scent of a rose.

Chorus:
But your love wilted like a flower
whose petals lie withered on the keys.
My heart is wounded and I've no power
to make the miserable ache inside of it ease.

Tender notes on sheet music, ripped and torn.
No longer sung for they bring pain and grief,
stabbing me like a rose's sharpest thorn.
From loss of yesterday's passion there's no relief.

Can time erase the memories I fear won't fade?
Traces of us and what use to be linger in me.
I sway as if slayed by a dagger, and I'm afraid
that from the ghost of you, I'll never be free.

Chorus:
Your love wilted like a flower
whose leaves lie withered on the keys.
My heart is wounded and I've no power
to make the miserable ache inside of it ease.

lost lovelyric

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Duke Beaufort

August 26, 2025 at 6:49 AM

Lin, I do love how you use leaves as a metaphor. It's a strong visual image that you create. I don't think time itself necessarily can heal the hurt we hold inside. If we are lucky, we use the time to think about the hurt we have and learn to put it in a less painful perspective. This is terribly hard and somewhat painful as many of us know, and sensitive people with a certain wiring have it even more difficult. However since I know you, I would tend to think of it as more of a loss for the other person. Smiles!!!