A silent longing, a plea divine,
In love's embrace, I seek my place,
But a flaming ache steals this space,
For in this fire, no warmth is found.
An empty throne, a bad religion,
Amidst the chaos, a wish is born—
Not for riches, nor worldly adorn,
But for a fleeting moment, a tranquil escape,
Not in death's cold clutch, nor sorrow's bind,
But to fade away, like gentle rain,
Dissolving into mist, into nothingness.
Yet as the mist clears, the heart yearns anew,
So I cherish the longing, however long,
For in this yearning, I am reborn.
