Mhriddian is the quiet trickle of the babbling brook.
I cup my hands to drink, but she runs through my fingers,
and I go thirsty, though I ache to be quenched.

Mhriddian is the fragrent scent of the fresh flowers in her garden.
I walk to to the field and breathe in, but the flowers are all cut,
and all her fragrence is lost to me.

Mhriddian is the beauty of a glorious summer sunset, filled with the richest of colours, its golds, chrimson, mauve and pink, the orange, purple and vermillion all laced around with the silver glow of the icy clouds.
I gaze up at the sky, but the she is draped in clouds from head to toe, and all the colors of her rainbow are gone to grey.

Mhriddian is the beguiling lilt of a song in the night, tempting and teasing, ever leading onward, but never being captured.
I listen intently, night after night, but the sound is carried away, ever away, until I hear it no more.

Why, oh why did I leave her... Why did I ever think I could live without her.
Why, oh why did I go away... Why did I ever believe she did not love me.

Was I a coward, to run away, and leave behind my one true love.
Why was I so foolish, to not ask why, why oh why did did she push me away.
What great pain caused us to part, what great fear tore us asunder.
What a fool I have been, not to pursue, to the uttermost end, the love of the one, who alone has made me to know the depth and breadth of love undeserved.

Forgive me Mhriddian, my only love, for I have been a coward.
Forgive me Mhriddian, my only love, for I have been a fool.
Forgive me Mhriddian, my only love, for I have been a failure.

Let me come to you, my only love, and be reconciled to you, though you never give yourself to me... that I may only gaze upon your face, and be once again set free of this torment in my soul, this death of hope and the pain that seeks to draw me under the waves of the sea of despair.