Home is where the heart is,
or so the angels say,
but my heart is with you my love,
and you are so far away.

Is there reason for our rhyme
I questioned once,
but now I question all the time.

I tread alone,
the curse and cross I want not to bear,
taking each step,
while dripping a tear.

The long walk started with a breath,
and will end not with destination of place,
but with the finality of my soul’s hope and death.

I long for you,
but you are so far away,
so I will start my long walk,
and cry alone for you tomorrow and a day.