by Ben Morton

Created on: January 26, 2007   Last Updated: May 14, 2007

Heart of Wax

The waxen heart in waning hand,
A gift of love is all but spurned,
It does not ask, nor does't demand,
But on love's altar has been burned.

A gift of love is all but spurned,
As hope will keep forever on,
But on love's altar has been burned,
And time, a fire, which burneth long.

As hope will keep forever on,
But hope deferred shall make it sick,
And time, a fire, which burneth long,

Now less one year the candle's wick.

But hope deferred shall make it sick,
The flick'ring light burns dimly on,
Now less one year the candle's wick,
Just bright enough for one last song.

The flick'ring light burns dimly on,
Rekindled by the turning hand,
Just bright enough for one last song,
With just enough beyond to stand.

Rekindled by the turning hand,
The waxen heart gives all again,
With just enough beyond to stand,
And hope to hope it's not in vain.

The waxen heart gives all again,
The waning hand to nearer draw,
And hope to hope it's not in vain,
Just as it was and was before.

The waning hand to nearer draw,
The heart waits yearning longer still,
Just as it was and was before,
It dare not dread it's fear fulfilled.

The heart waits yearning longer still,
By grim resolve is ever scarred,
It dare not dread it's fear fulfilled,
Nor does it seek itself to guard.

By grim resolve is ever scarred,
The waxen heart in waning hand,
Nor does it seek itself to guard.
It does not ask, nor does't demand.

The waxen heart in waning hand,
A gift of love is all but spurned,
It does not ask, nor does't demand,
But on love's altar has been burned.

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