Speak now soft to me,
to this stoning heart,
let me awaken then
to some flash of sun,
e’en if only martyred
with false reverence;
for it casts, callous,
swift upon my breast.
Let shed this burden,
this weighted breeze,
that it may then lend
some weight to breath,
the air I cannot feel,
yet burns in my lungs;
‘ere no discernment,
‘twixt me, or this air.
I admit life, yet uncast,
living but to fill space,
such paltry sum, am I,
of some grand design,
as if I were a portion
of some broad horizon;
the earth I thus attend,
else my heart dies lone.
Do not mourn for me,
one can but surrender,
for all stoning hearts,
‘ere no delay of tides
shall e’er come ‘tween
you and I, each of us;
let play now this ode,
song of stoning heart.
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