Scarlet has quickly become his colour.
Willows have quickly become his tree.
The sight I simply can not stand to see:
He falls, swift, into arms of another.
When he turns to me I have no cover;
No will to hide, indeed to breathe,
When he leaves I am driven to my knees,
This unnatural longing stolen by her.
I had no chance to steal his heart away;
It belong’d to her long before they met,
And I am here to repair what is left
Of the sad homage my heart used to pay.
The next time we meet I’ll have payed my debt
With scraps of love for him my heart has kept.