The Statutes of Statues
In case I never feel again.
Oh how I wish I could feel you again,
To relive the romance, not just the refrain.
To feel fully your sunshine,
Make your goodness my own.
But my love, alas,
I am turned to stone.
How can you, so close, feel so far away?
The answer comes quickly: it’s my own decay.
Count my fleeing steps
As how little I’ve grown,
For my love, alas,
I am turned to stone.
I’m a golem, a statue,
A slate that looks at you,
Trying to break free
But better off alone.
Because my love, alas,
What more could I give you?
I’m nothing. Nothing.
Nothing but stone.
