. . . I want to kiss you, but I find emptiness. . .,
I hold your face in my hands, look into your eyes, trying to find her, instead I see emptiness. . .
Where is she my love, . . . Where have you hidden my woman of valor, my woman of remorse, my woman of feeling,
Where have you hidden my hardworking woman, my woman of passion, my woman of strength, . . . Or was she never there?
I miss my woman. . .
I doubt my woman. . .
All is empty,
Your words are empty, your laugh full of malice, your eyes full of craft.
I can no longer see my woman. . . When I look at you, I start to doubt if there was really ‘my woman’ . . .or was I reflecting my own ideals into empty eyes.
Yet my heart still bleeds for the woman I believed there was. . . As I look at you through my rose colored glasses. . .