Weary, a long night short of slumber
Enters a thought before calm dreams do end
Like high rolling waves of crashing thunder
Through the whole of the soul does she ascend.

Clear vision betrayed by dull morning light
The dim glow gives hope to find her fine face.
The passion, the words, kept beyond midnight
But she is not there, no beauty no grace

Tis stark and raw when the dark truth returns
The weight of sad fact drops hard to the floor
Yet desire is felt so wildly it burns
Can one of great distance simply adore

Both same in mornings though journeys apart
Alone in their world with love in their heart