You’™re silent – you never speak
of things mysterious and deep
Nor yet do I – but here they bide
and seek a cranny wherein to hide.
There their song reverberates
within the blood – within the mind
nor can we ever truly find
a way to say what can’™t be said
but only read through glistening eye
like through a crystal’™s glass
a tale of love that’™s far that’™s nigh.
So hiding,’  they arcanely lie
‘˜Till times are done –
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Until we die.