Sailing alone
in this tranquil sea,
An aide I seek, to my melting periphery,
Last night's supper stale, at the stroke of nine,
Will the dews collect together to quench my pine?
An aide I seek, to my melting periphery,
Last night's supper stale, at the stroke of nine,
Will the dews collect together to quench my pine?
Will I ever
know that sweet ‘Hello’,
One meant for only me, preserved for a longer flow?
Will I get to see that lovely smile,
That captivates my pith, treasured long awhile?
One meant for only me, preserved for a longer flow?
Will I get to see that lovely smile,
That captivates my pith, treasured long awhile?
Will I ever
get to feel the magical touch,
That sparks a cold sensation, inside my cardiac hutch?
A touch filled run, still sans contact, by her finger,
That inexplicable pleasantness, that will forever linger.
That sparks a cold sensation, inside my cardiac hutch?
A touch filled run, still sans contact, by her finger,
That inexplicable pleasantness, that will forever linger.
Where…where
is love?
Will I ever be soaked with the elixir,
Will I ever be soaked with the elixir,
Flowing out
of her feels, soothing my painful stir?
Will I get to enjoy her protracted company,
Eroding my solitude, planting my avid harmony?
Will I get to enjoy her protracted company,
Eroding my solitude, planting my avid harmony?
Will I get to
see her, the ethereal maiden,
With ‘Love’ all over her face written?
Her finesse and grace, retained for me to see,
Her virgin beauty, echoing my reformation spree.
With ‘Love’ all over her face written?
Her finesse and grace, retained for me to see,
Her virgin beauty, echoing my reformation spree.
Where…where
is she?
In all my troubles and happiness alike,
In all my troubles and happiness alike,
She, who can
suffuse into me, her like,
Every step of mine ahead, right or wrong,
She, who will sing my play along.
For the lone tear I ever shed,
She, who will send the pair ahead,
For every question that hath me dried,
She, who can kiss her support inside.
A faded wait, still, of her no sign,
Will the dark ever bring light to my pine?
Every step of mine ahead, right or wrong,
She, who will sing my play along.
For the lone tear I ever shed,
She, who will send the pair ahead,
For every question that hath me dried,
She, who can kiss her support inside.
A faded wait, still, of her no sign,
Will the dark ever bring light to my pine?
A blast from the past... from "The Pine" - 2006.