Burning tears fell yet again this spring,
This love, this life, this sweet, sweet thing.
Timeless leaves in eternal wind; ripples on a pond.

This hungering emptiness; this aching to belong.
Too long, too strong, disheveled feelings have consumed,
Fermented bitter passions, left the sweetest songs bemused.
Convulsed the inner temple where the canny child I was still lies
Wrapped in fearless, starlight dreaming; singing fairy lullabies!

On the frenzied merry-go-round of life much that is fond
Is discovered in an apple or cherished in a song.
The joy of the tender rose; the music in the rain....

And mountains of hopeless effort; chasms of darkest pain.
Each eruption of flushed emotion, so vexing to bare,
Sinks beneath the anxious seas of distraction, never to share
The same, brief pulse of sanity; the same, quiet, lucid thought
From Bedlam's disconnected messages my fractured me is wraught.


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