Like a leaf floating on the waves
During the course of a tempest
Which threatens to overwhelm
And swamp that bark
And sunder its hull
Driving it to the depths
But not of the sea
But of despair
And solemn misery
Struck forth out of lonesome
Out of lonesome and futile days.
I need you.
My soul is a wisp upon a vesper,
Naught but a whisper,
When I am apart from you.
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