The demons I carry that torture my soul,
I've become so weary and my spirit so cold.
The absence of me and the core of my being,
Has diminished my needs and blinded my seeing
The truth of my nature that beckons me so
To search for the nectar of which I've been told.
The wildness of passion, the ache of desire.
The vastness of oceans, the mystery of fire.
In the solitude of night, a glimmer of hope.
I rise to the light and reach for the rope
That love has thrown, . . . so fragile and frail.
I feel my way to your heart by Braille.
Like a child in love for the very first time.
Be patient, be true, be constant, be kind.
For the heart endures to feed itself.
For the moment or forever, only time will tell.
And when the riches of love upon us are showered,
The hunger will run deep and the flesh devoured.