I Sang A Song
I sang a song from deep within.
Its music was your face.
Its words sang softly your sweet voice,
And echoed sweet your grace.
Then, one day, a mournful tune.
Its music– ‘twas your death.
Its words gave cause for me to weep
As you took your last breath.
They say that music’s often heard
As the speech from an Angel's lips,
But I’d rather God had struck me deaf
Than lose the music of your friendship.
No longer do I hear the music played
And no longer care to listen.
I judge not God nor any man
For the pain that God has given.
But if Angels are the music,
Then love’s their lyrics sung.
The music for us shall long remain
And to those lyrics… I’ll sing along.
But one overwhelming thought remains,
That although I loved you briefly,
You weren’t just simply my music,
You were a tender symphony.
