Wasteland

The life is gone from this land.
No more green trees.
No more blue sky.

In the meadow, I held your hand.
We forged the stream.
We laughed and ran.

But now the ground has turned to frost.
Now you are gone.
Now I am lost.

Did I know how to count the cost;
To let this die;
To let you go?

They say that winter turns to spring;
That after death,
Life comes again.

But now I have no strength to sing:
This song of hope,
Seems wrong and strange.

I know we had our ways to part:
I did not know.
The pain I’d feel.

The wasteland of a broken heart,
Is barren but,
Someday will heal.