I light no lamp, for none compare
to the fire I once saw in your stare.
But even that-just memory's flame-
flickers now when I whisper your name.

The sea is loud but you are still,
locked in silence, against my will.
And I, adrift with lips grown cold,
count stars alone, as stories unfold.

I've turned down hands both bold and kind,
but none have tamed this storm of mind.
Their laughter fades, their words grow thin-
I crave the soul I found within.

My letters go unanswered, lost
on ghost-wind tides. I know the cost.
I gave up warmth, I gave up glee,
to hold the hope you'll come to me.

They say you slumber deep and far-
a fallen knight beneath a star.
But oh, if dreams could touch your chest,
you'd feel my ache, you'd know no rest.

I wear your name like sacred ink,
and every time I dare to blink,
I see your face in ocean spray,
but morning always steals it away.

So here I sit, as dusk concedes-
a broken moon, a heart that bleeds.
Still faithful, still I softly weep...
for you, my love, are still asleep.

Penned by my hand on the 16th of Aeguary, in the year 984 AF.