Four walls and an echo
Down a long and distant hall
Four intents and no passenger
And a self-constructed wall
Three beats and then waiting
For the time to pronounce my vow
Three strikes and then debating
Should I forfeit the game right now?
Two seats yet filled to capacity
Did she save a seat for me?
Two ballads have made me restless
And their cadence won’t set me free
One candle seems too solitary
Me, myself and eyes are under strain
The fine print of my love songs are contrary
To life’s context and catchy refrain
Blank pages in an athenaeum
And the moon without her sun
For still I write these love songs
For a million and no One.