He shatters, violent, lascerated
crystal shards and tears
and love once wild and celebrated
withered, froze in winters depth
and counts lost wasted years
.
And lost he wanders aching,
broken, without port or land
in sight and hope seems taken
until there bright on horizon
‘gainst the tempest she does stand
.
She takes his pieces, safe, collected
fingers, bloodied, red and torn
he wonders lost but not neglected
and battered by the fury dark
He waits at break of morn’
.
Land firm beneath his feet he feels
her sun upon his skin
find home and hearth, hears church bells peel
there warmed, and safe, another chance
a new chance to begin
