He was born into a family so kind, with ties that bind
Children to father, mother, and sister to brother,
And other blood kin in such goodness-home assigned;
Blessed by Christ-cover, yet searching for another,
This one would be marked to be the one love left behind.
Child plays in bright-lit days; silent sleep at night,
No blight, never fright, with ones so dear ere so near,
And he could hear chimes of heaven in rhythmic time,
Yet did darkness climb up in hypnotic beauty sublime;
Ne’er would he find one so unkind; love left him behind.
He married and tarried in cold unaffection, defection
Of the heart, rejection of bed-mate in uncovered hate
Even his children could see and grieve without reprieve;
And she chose to leave for devil-deception to weave;
He stood alone aligned with the place assigned…
This was the one love left behind.
Years later now, he begs creator for something greater
Than disappointment and failure, an healing ointment
To apply to cuts so deep in his shattered heart-keep,
As he walks along, sings sad song, no where to belong;
Even friends turn to let him burn with souls so stern.
This was the one love left behind
To wail for angel gracious and kind.