Loss is like a real and bloody wound

Loss is like a  real wound in the heart
From knife, from dagger,sword or  scimitar
When your own beloved must depart

Or hearts may split in two, may crack or smart
Listening to dear Cohen with guitar
Loss was like a  real wound in his heart

I felt  my wound would widen, blood might  squirt
Cover me in red,oh,mad, bizarre
When  my own beloved chose “Depart”

Sometimes when I walked I used to lurch
Once into the road ,between two cars
Loss is like a  real wound in the heart

I wandered through the graveyard, ancient church
Castigate me not ,peculiar
Like a bird  his soul sought for its perch

As far as  Mirth, as far as the North Star
Noone   knows the vastness nor would dare
Loss is like a  cut,a wound, oh heart
When your own beloved must depart

 

 

 

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