"I've wilted missing this lady. A tiresome thing."
Said a mind full of strength worn out like a broken king.

Exists no preoccupation so large it could sling,
Shut, over the sweeping love she so often brings.

All sounds are heard in echo of her voice and what it sings,
Soothing me such that my shoulders droop like folded wings.

I'm half an adventurous soul kept at bay in wait of his ying,
A yan in wait, a bud that shall bloom, when arrives its light of Spring.