The strength of my serenity is weak;
the weakness of my love, a lonely gift.
The voice within my silence needs to speak
the words my heavy heart can’t seem to lift:
intensity is not my lover’s crime;
insanity is not my final cry;
futility is just a waste of time;
serenity must find the strength to try.
And if it fails, the moon has failed as well;
it wanes and disappears from earthly sight,
and yet unseen it casts a steady spell,
and oceans ebb and flow beneath its might.
And though at times I too may be unseen,
I’ll pull you back to me with love serene.