In my heart there is an ache, That once beat strong with love. But now whatever feelings left, Flown away like the white dove. I do not know what feelings dwell, Left buried there inside, Beneath this hurt, this pain, this ache, Which strips away all pride. For I have reached a vacant place, Where it is dark and cold, The warmth once there is buried, I cannot seem to grab a hold. I know my heart still lives inside, For I can feel with each beat an ache, But what else is there remaining, Is hidden, not mine to take. Where does one's heart go to hide, When it is slowly dying? And with it body, mind and soul, And all else so undenying? I need to know, to understand, To touch, to feel, and see, For once more I have come to here, To where "ME" is slowly dying. Bgd 3/29/97