Though my passion for you grows evíry day,
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Tis like a dried river to my parched lips,
My words ill spoken, my heart doth betray,
My hidden dependence for thirstful sips.
This love for you, to which I hold no doubt,
Leads me to a dangerous temptation,
You are the rain to my forsaken drought,
And to you I turn tíwards for salvation.
Twas for you to take, my heart thou didst steal,
I mustnít show my true feelings of lust,
Look past what I show and feel what I feel,
This poem speaks but of its outer crust.
Tis up to you to break my wretched spell,
See true my love, release me from this hell.