A cascade of tears create an inlet
while a desert of scars leaves me stranded
The subtleties of the wounded spirit
won’t always bleed from my wistful heart

I reflect in the ocean of sorrow
whilst famine feeds my storm
Quenching the longing for insight
I am witness to the rising of a new dawn

I will betray this spiritual darkness
by tending to my sacred garden
Soaking the seeds of compassion
I lie in wait for my soul to blossom