There’s a sense of longing in me As I read Rosemary’s letter Her writing’s honest Can’t forget the years she’s lost In isolation She talks about her love And as I read "I’ll die alone" I know she was aching There’s a certain detail seen here The pen must have slipped to the side And left the stain Next to his name She knew he was gone And isolation Is all that would remain "The wound in me is pouring out To rest on a lover’s shore"
Vangard