I see the stars sparkling so bright,
Within the moon kissed sky.
I hear the lark so sweetly sing,
Amidst the morning dawn.
I smell the flower full in bloom,
And see their royal pomp.
And yet some place so deep within,
I'm shrouded and I'm closed.
The brilliance there I can't see,
In mists of misery.
Enshrined inside, unable thus,
To touch the warmth without.
I gaze upon this passion spent,
And yet . . . Inside I die.