Oft' my hungry heart doth dwell,
in a secret, starlit, cavern of time,
dreaming of fair maid I loved so well,
yet never moved to make her mine.
Simple crush I dwelt on long,
my ballad rolling gently 'round,
in crystal hall I hum my song,
on midnight walks about my town.
For 'twas plain she loved another,
a good man who loved her well,
and as she saw me like a brother,
I vowed to me I'd never tell.
Except to sing, of course,
in this secret, starlit, cavern of mine,
where my song can't cause her hurts,
and a young crush sweetens with time.
Through the years I stroll,
never knowing of her fate,
yet I never payed much toll,
see, the dream she's given me is great.
For oft' her smile is a friend,
who's memory I often find,
down sleepy streets that only end,
in a
secret,
starlit,
cavern,
of mind.
a/n: To my muse:
May you one day truly believe
you deserve the love you yearn for,
and cease to seek a heart to burn.
I'll always treasure the laughter
in your eyes and the rare brilliance
of your easy smiles
the night we shot the mile.
Perhaps tonight we both drink a toast
to race gas, pearly whites,
and black lights.
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