Music

My longing drips from every note and I’m quite tired from it

The truth is others dance away while I am fated to sit

The aching seems to fuel the band of devils in this cruel world

What do I sing of hope and love to the woman and the girl?

Migrant

Rest your weary mind
My love
Rest your stricken heart

Permit time
Permit soonness
Permit fondness promised

When seasons change, as they will
When notes become no more
Permit the absence, too