Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels

Gray her skies, so blustery her breath
whose earth awaits her living touch:
cold grief, passing slowly, pulls my heart along…

My lover’s hills arise from mists;
her curves the waters follow down
vacant heart, beating, empty, sings a lonely song

Restless sea past gentle peaks
that churns til misty weathers rise
hidden passion stirs to no avail, my hope is gone

Come my love, for life runs thin…
come lift my heart again

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