How many long nights
Have perished on the single bed
In the lonely room
Sleepless and pensive
Listening to the harsh
Beat of the rain
Unable to bear the cold
How many tears have been shed
Draining the white pillow
On the old bed
How many years have been spent
Walking alone the lonely path
Without a hand, without a shoulder
To hold and lean, and
Whisper the secrets long hidden
From the world
With greying hair and
An aching back
With clouded eyes and
Weakening limbs
I am still sitting on my doorstep
Till you come
The prince who will marry me
According to the family astrologer
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