It still wets my soul

O, fairest light that graces mortal eyes,
Thy radiance doth kindle heart’s delight,
A beacon ‘midst the dark and fleeting skies,
Which dost rekindle love with dawning light.

When first mine eyes did feast on thy sweet face,
Thine essence, pure as dawn’s first blush’d ray,
Did stir within me feelings ne’er displaced,
A tempest fierce, yet gentle as the day.

Though time may swift as river’s course doth run,
And shadows stretch their darkened wings with might,
Thy presence lingers like the setting sun,
A whispered song that turns the dark to light.

In dreams, thy visage ever doth appear,
As softest sighs do paint the silent night,
Thy love, a balm that soothes each hidden fear,
And fills my soul with rapture’s purest light.

O, let not time or fate our hearts unbind,
For still thy love’s the breath that keeps me whole,
And in its glow, eternal I shall find,
That it still wets my ever-thirsty soul.

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