Who is it that keeps returning?
That man, that voice, that name,
Why is it that flame keeps burning?
Who is it I should blame?

 

Was it purely sympathy,
That lead us to that kiss?
You had no feelings to resist,
You had no me to miss.

 

You cannot recall the power,
The intensity I laid to bare,
My labours told – and nights of cold,
Did you really care?

 

The words I wrote now ashes,
The words I spoke now dust,
The web I wove so tragic,
Re-live all this?….I must.

 

2001