Ramblings of Poe

Wantings wander my path; Ever coming, ever going Content and bliss to see that first face I run the halls of my inner sanctum, finding perfect grace Is this more, is it God? Is it love? No, perhaps a perfect union within my grasp Soon a disillusion as she passed

A Sorrow's Sea, with depths that tease A love lost that never was found With a yearning that simply abounds And in astonishment, secedes