• finnisam 10w

    I hope the winds will carry my mad words
    And that you may not think them mad as hell.
    O sweet girl! I am under your fair spell,
    These feelings formed within my heart absurd.
    You know not this love that I hold tight,
    For the possibility hurts so much
    That you might recoil from my faint touch
    And thus retreat into the gentle night.
    Tears now flow at the sad reminder,
    This, the distance between our two rough hearts,
    I do not know what I wish to find there,
    At the crossroads in which we stay, or depart.
    Hoping it is love we find, but where?
    You do not know me, and so we stay apart.