Bonhoeffer

You walk away – love’s happiness and sore pain.
What name shall I give you? Distress, life bliss,
part of myself, my heart – times past? All gone?
The door slams shut,
I hear your footsteps slowly die away.
What is left when you are gone? Joy, anguish, longing?
I know only this: you go away – and all is gone.