Lost Saint


Alas the tale be told again

of a wandering and lost man,

he’s traveled for a thousand years

across a thousand lands.

The tale he must forever tell

of love both found and lost.

Though a man can find his happiness,

there’ll always be a cost.

Could you say that cost to dear

to wager or take a chance?

Just sit back and you’ll hear the tale

of the Saint of Circumstance


He sailed across the wide, wide seas

to distant foreign lands,

climbed the highest mountain tops,

walked the hottest desert sands.

One day as he sat all alone,

mischievous cupid caught off guard,

drew back his deadly bow,

and shot him through the heart.

The poison arrow found it’s mark,

and in his blood did flow.

It crept throughout all his veins,

and to his brain did go.

The poison it did work it’s woe,

as he fell fast asleep.

He dream’ed a terrorific dream

in that sleep so deep.

What is this beast, no it’s a beauty

that has invaded my mind

and like a speeding arrow my heart did find.

I dream of her enveloping me in her sweet caress,

I must seek out and find her, and thus my happiness.


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