I am crushed on the wheel,
Destroyed by my thoughts,
That cascade so freely about me.
Traitors, each one,
That dares to presume
You no longer reside here.
Does the delicate shell,
In its peaceful solitude,
Not lie in the sea?
Do the busy bees,
Who make the fluids sweet,
Not flock to the hive?
Or are the lips,
Opened in the ecstacy of speech,
Not the frame for the whipping tongue?
Can it be that while I dreamt, you,
As silently as the tender breeze,
Crept from this loving embrace of mine?
And how did I,
Infatuated as I was,
Not notice your absence till now?
What was once firm, solid,
Is now broken, awash with tears
And I lie wasted, alone.
Too spent to recapture my heart,
As it struggles next to me,
In a pool of love that's lost.