The Aisle

The Aisle A cathedral of trees; An aisle of sand, Barefoot I carry you, Through our Golden land Your head on my shoulder, Your hand on my arm My heart is steady; Your breath is calm Altar made of green Walking slowly, watching you, The most beautiful woman I have ever seen You hold my hand; Even though you know, The question I will ask, Your answer will be no. I gently place you down; Wanting you to wear my crown, A king you'd make me, I was lost now found Your answer lost to the winds, My heart lost to time; I'm left alone, Wishing you were mine.