This deluded world.
A never-ending night.
Who can speak of dreams,
and intimate whispers?
And where I gaze in yearning.
I lose myself, on the wings of a bird.
With thoughts of you, so loving.
Since the water has dried
This deluded world.
A never-ending night.
Who can speak of dreams,
and intimate whispers?
And where I gaze in yearning.
I lose myself, on the wings of a bird.
With thoughts of you, so loving.
A Wandering Poet 