A daughter came home late one night.

Her face was smudged with tears.

Her mother asked what happened.

She said her lover had disappeared.

Her mother said not to worry.

This happens all the time.

I will tell you the first love story,

And how true love came to die.

Once there was a girl,

Soft and small and white;

She had been beaten and broken so often,

With all her passers might.

But round and round she went,

for hope she’d see her dear,

she never stopped her turning,

for thoughts he may come near.

And then there was a boy,

So big and warm and bright

He gave everyone he saw

The joy of all his light.

But the one he cherished most

He rarely got to see

With all her spinning round,

She stayed a mystery.

Only his light would show

The beauty of her face,

But in his light he saw,

All her passers trace.

He wanted so badly to touch

Her ever glowing grin

But should he get too close

It would be her very end.

 For all his warmth and light

He paid and awful price

He must always stay alone

Or his light would shine too bright.

He would blind her quick and fast

And then he’d burn her up

He knew that she’d be gone

With just a lover’s touch.

So he begged the ones above

To spin her round below

But only just enough

That her face would often glow

He used his shining light

To show his friends around

The beauty of his love

That none before had found.

But never for himself

Would he see her shining gaze

That was his sacrifice

For lonely empty days.

She would hold the night

With her beauty shining clear

Round and round she went

Never to see her dear

But she was so discontent

Never knowing him

That she spun so fast and strong

And ran away from them.

She wanted nothing more

Than to hold his shining face

If only for a moment

Within her shining gaze.

And so it came to be

She traveled in the night

She spun and spun and spun

With every bit of might

So that maybe once she’d see

Everything he was

And their love would truly shine

As love seldom does.

But even with her spinning

It only came to pass

That rarely would they meet

And only seconds last

So the lovers spun,

And carried on in their pain

So from the tragic loss

Everyone could gain.