See the rose hang broken taking her last breath,
As diminished as my severely impaired heart
The wind blowing hard and cold, holding yet only scorn
As bitter thoughts pierce my soul, leaving it ripped and torn
Oh sweet morning, when will you awake?
I wish for the light in which I do not partake
Absent this darkness surrounding my very soul,
I ask you, let me be! yet again, whole..
Bitter light of genuine aching,
Show their teeth marks in my skin
Could I possibly kneel any lower?
To this god, who satan seems to twin
As the teardrop leaves my eye and travels down my face,
I doubt in faith's-, and observe love's grace
he, and only he is what makes everything worthwhile,
All what I am sure of being beguile
Raging rivers come to an end and form a small brook
My heart beats slowly as my breath no longer stocks
Closing my eyes as I lay my head to rest,
Dreaming evermore, by an angel being blessed