My aching soul does wander hopelessly;
It seeks to sate insatiable desires
For that which never shall fulfilling be.
These things, obtained, will burn in hungry fires,
Flames, dwelling where your love should lodge instead.
But I will flee to places far and wide
While lying voices fill my throbbing head
And hopeful echoes soft are thrust aside.
A sweet captivity I did refuse
And so I run in bitter freedom now,
Blind in my flight, as I did darkness choose.
But you shall find me, ashes on my brow
And kiss the one who from you tore apart-
For I am yours, beloved of your heart.
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