Cassandrian Wind

Of anything singing

I move with a grace

In the meadows of lightness

caressing your face

And I love you, I love you

with never a sound

When the wind through the willows

sends love crashing down

In the sighing, a nameless

of being will cease

to become of the mountains;

just valley increased

Through the mist and the dying

yet echoes farewell

How I love you, I love you,

but who may I tell?

And the shadows ~ the heartless

deny they are thrown

By a brilliance of beauty

they never have known

Can you hear them? Bells ringing

and calling you home

Oh, I love you, I love you

must echo alone