Fount of compassion

How I wonder, what
I pulsated, from
The oeuvre of life

Your language speaks
So different, to my
Silent decipher

Yet of beauty
I gravitate, into
Your vast eyes

Does it orb freedom
Craving my sensitivity
Till my last commune

And you belong, not
To my tears, nor
Any deluge whatsoever

I lay, in eternal
Wait, to gather
Thy fount of compassion

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