Wind picks up beneath me
And carries my stronghold, hope
See it fly and die
From whence it came
Upon my aching breast its wieght
My words no sound, agape
But loss of love shall not escape
The fever of fear consumes
The dear, dear love of love
No more than fear
The vile villain of the year
For you my dear have I picked
This flower of fate
of destiny worn and sealed
Dried petal and smell remote, no more
Song or sweet soft note
Only silence and lonely fear
On the wanton wind for you my dear
