Is it the wind!?
the tearing wind!.
Or is it time!?
to which all is lost!.
For the heat of the sun,
warms that which, I can not feel!.
And the night,
numbs me once again!.
To which is love!?
love that breaks you!?
And as to love is to be hurt,
walking among these stars,
blind to the world!?
I cross the hottest deserts,
flesh burns away!.
It is a dulled knife,
striking with a fury,
to hurt me,
as the sun doth to it!.
For love without pain,
is it love at all!?
And love with pain,
do we not all fear!?
Our hearts,
with pain it is lost!.
To not love as before,
I feel you not!.
That which is found once again,
it is lost to the void!.
And love cannot hold me,
anymore!.!.!.!.
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