I was a poor man farmer,
I understood the soils,
I worked the world, a madman,
I lived from all my toils.
You never could have stayed here,
You have slain the stars above,
You flew beyond this border,
You left with all my love.
We were always meant to be there,
We were blessed that we had met,
We were led to separate wonders,
We were traced by twin sunsets.
She was always in that moment,
She launched my heart to war,
She touched me in the moonlight,
She was truth with her encore.
They asked about the rumors,
They offered twice my farm,
They found the truth in trespass,
They had met to their alarm.
None could hope replace her,
None could quench her risen flame
None could ever understand her,
None could see beneath her fame.
All spoke as though they knew her,
All believed they understood,
All had missed the rising curtain,
All before Ms. Monroe stood.
Let the ages softly hold her,
Let her mystery remain,
Let her spirit never wander,
Let her honor bear my name.
Our destinies, not diamonds,
Our lives knew joy and tears,
Our innocence has made a bond,
Our love has fed my years.
My case bore no reprisal,
My love stayed undefiled,
My flame, a rock of ages,
My soul's since reconciled.
For all that fades to shadow,
For love found in the night,
For dreaming of a farm girl,
For my moments with her light.
-Hermit King-
