beg among the multitude,
but you are darkness-fair,
to give but kingly precious few…
an essence of alms to sustain the pleader more. In my wounded soul:
I have placed you piercing deep,
yet still you wander…
still my heart do reap. I will breathe the very air:
that you will move to form,
the words of change.
And there I will:
part my lips,
to sigh…to seal…
and cry with my soul
returned
yearn.
intotheindigo 