'Greece, the Land of Love' by William Forde
'The first time I saw Greece, was the last time I felt love.
The last time I saw you, you looked out from up above
your apartment by the sea, my tears and waving hand.
When you told me that we'd meet no more, I did not understand
why you'd ended it so suddenly and broke my heart in two,
why you chose to send me on my way, while you faced life anew.
It wasn't that you didn't love me, why you set me free.
but because of darkest secrets when you knew it couldn't be.
When you found out you were dying and had only months to live,
you gave me back my freedom and took back all you had to give,
by saying that we're finished, and the time had come to part,
by pushing me away from you, rubbing salt into my heart.
The next time I returned to Greece, I sought you out again,
I found your apartment empty, and the sunshine turned to rain.
I learned you'd died alone of an illness wracked with pain,
a part of me died right there, that would not rise again.
I found your place of rest, where I gently placed a rose
and on that spot, myself I shot and left Greece in repose.
No more standing by a window, staring out there all alone,
for I'll be there beside you, laid entwined in dust and bone.
You would not let me share your end, and be there when you fell.
You wished to spare me pain and let me think that you were well.
But the final act was mine alone in our eternal play to please,
by laying down beside you, you returned my love to Greece.'
Copyright: William Forde: January 27th, 2017.