Home, for me, was never a place;
That comfort and safety aren't tied to a space -
for me it's the people, and emotions they bring:
a hallowed steeple, a hymn to sing.
.
Since you left I've been homeless,
- a wandering wreck -
no refuge nor address,
a stone 'round my neck.
.
My friends have homes,
and I'm a welcome guest,
yet my soul still roams:
a traveler with no quest.
.
And my friends are springs,
fresh, clear, and pure,
but for one who is starving,
water's no cure.
.
I hunger, my love, for your lips on mine,
Heavens above, grant me a sign.
This beaten-down husk, this wretched shell,
A shadow in dusk, for you unwell.
.