Missing a Lover

Shall I ever see his gentle eyes,
that are as brown as a chestnut tree?
Shall I ever stroll my fingers through his soft black hair,
that is as wavy as the tossing sea?
Shall I ever hold his massive hands,
that are as rough and as hard as wood?
Shall I ever kiss his crimson lips,
that always held me where I stood?

Shall I ever feel his pulsing heart,
that pounding with mine grew as one?
Shall I ever brush his tender ear,
that would allow me to whisper, I'd borne his son?
Shall I ever leave this sacred place,
that was the last spot that we met?
Shall I ever have the needed strength,
that will let my broken soul forget?