Once upon the time there is a man forlorn,
He is golden and bright but his eyes are old,
With his heart crying burning tears and as a lover's torn.
He gave his heart freely, and would not mourn
As it was accepted by the void, lost, and sold:
Once upon the time there is a man forlorn.
Smiles, wishes with which he tried to save the torn
Strands of heart - but he would end, the disaster could have been foretold,
With his heart crying burning tears and as a lover's torn.
That wound opened further, all happiness was shorn
From the world where his heart screamed-silent. But always in the cold,
Once upon the time there is a man forlorn.
His soul is a wizened oak aflame, his love is worn,
Smoldering, it supports him, and, glad, he is even bold
With his heart crying burning tears and as a lover's torn.
In this legend of a love which was borne
so painfully - the stories in their lines will the pain enfold:
"Once upon a time there is a man forlorn,
With his heart crying burning tears and as a lover's torn."