The silent war between lovers' lines,
In the midst of endless time,
I find nigh, I am high,

To the core, in my endless mind,
The kind of hearts, that pry and pry,

Curses shouted to the wind,
Verses, written to the page,

A fast, and slow calling, just barely out of reach.
Touch my fingertips and look into my eyes,
As I slip, and fly away.

~Robert van Lingen