Lille of The Valley

I’m trying. I promise that I’m trying.

Another took my passion
And threw it in the blender.
All the love I gave—
They returned back to sender.
But there sat Lille,
Most soft and utmost tender.
She procured medicinal balms;
She is a very fast learner.

She duplicated her presence
So I wouldn’t feel alone.
I could taste the sweetness of her perfume
When she spoke to me through the phone.
But try as my heart might,
It had made someone else its home.
Our situation was hopeless—
Should I stay or should I go?

My heart had been tortured by another,
And I struggled to say so.

The memories of present past
Looped all around my brain,
Creating knots of agony
That I struggled to contain.
I locked myself in isolation
To lick all recent wounds,
Whilst precious Lille awaited me,
Patiently, in the silent room.
So I dried my eyes in haste
And climbed out of my tomb,
In hopes that just maybe
I’d get well sometime soon.

Because she was trying.
Oh, I know that she was trying.

I took a ride through country lanes
To get rid of all my hurt and constant pain.
My trip created distance—
Further away from Lille’s train.
I held tears enough for oceans,
Enough for me to sail away.
But I planted, hooked, and sank there,
To assure her that the boat would stay.

Because she was trying.
Oh, I know that she was trying.

My eyes were filled with the chemicals
Of a recent lover’s scent.
So I fell unto my knees
And closed them to repent.
But oh, how my distressed heart
Did not seek to relent—
It withered far away
Until each day was spent.

Lille had camped outside
And built a stable tent,
Pumping water from a fountain
As she called out my name hence.
So I endeavored to rise
And recollect my sense—
Or else set her free
To adore someone else.

Because she was trying.
Oh, I know that she was trying.

Yet I could not afford her devotion
Through all this wretched crying.
My tissues were all run out,
And heartbreak felt like dying.
But oh, how I was trying.
For her sake, I was trying.

Yet even till now,
My eyes will not stop crying.
My tissues are all run out,
And heartbreak still feels like dying.
But oh, 
How I’m trying.
For my sake—
Still, i’m trying.