Without Complain
Old heart, it may be you
Our journey together was not long
According to the expectation of pedigree,
But it was a heck of an expedition.
I got you into so many things
O my idealism, so unabated in unabated youth
So beaten up and beat upon without defiance
You took it all not cowardly, but silently
The hardest part was keeping you from violence.
Old heart, how you strain the leash of temperance
And how easily you were seduced into passion
And how often you fell hard from slippery cliffs of illusion
And again, and again you went on climbing
Fearing to doubt.
You suffered, you paid for it, hiding grimace
And pain, and torments of your will to do right.
O old heart, it may be you
Whose time has come ... the pains are too much for me
Finally the time has come for you to give
And I must go
Without complain
And will thank him who liberated me from pain
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