The sun grew red, and sank behind the hills,
And restless grew the wond’ring in my mind;
The doubt that grows to poison, and then kills,
Had burned my eyes, and made my judgment blind.
For how could I believe the words you’d said?
So many times I’d heard such things before:
The words were always empty – hollow – dead –
And love a made-up game of keeping score.
It’s fine: I knew I did my part as well,
Another day gone down, another love:
The reddish light, the latest tinge of hell,
I didn’t know what I’d been thinking of…
But then, you touched me softly, and I knew:
The sun might go, but I would not lose you
