Many are the voices in which you speak,
The words sweet and soothing to my battered soul
Tis but with the knowledge that I’m weak
That you dance like the mad dervish who hath realized his goal
I can’t fathom your ways, which are sweet as they are cruel
You make me wait pining for your attention
Yet each moment of expectation is but delicious fuel
For my being that is tossed in exhiliration
Tell me my dearest, is it my fault that I can remember
Familiar scenes from a past existence though hazy and vague
Despite your efforts to keep me in deep slumber
How can I be a stranger to the acts of the playful rogue?
Millions of times have I cried out your name
Sometimes loud and most in silence
You fail to reveal yourself betraying your fame
Is it just? To wait till I’m cured of my ignorance dense?
Tell me my dearest, who else do I know in this world?
What else is worthy to think or do?
But to pine for your attention in the heart as the greedy yearn for gold
Enough of the wait, come and claim me as your own, why let me rue?