Mistress of my soul

Our reunion needs no words, dear,
For there is nothing to say,
You complete me in such a way,
As might a lover to a girl.


Mistress of my soul,
How do I speak with you?
For my words meander on your infinity,
And your answer does come from the fall.
It leaves me so enamoured and full,
That I do not even need a beckoning call.


How do you know, how to quench this thirst,
And calm my weary quarrelling soul,
The secret which even I do not know,
Even though I hold it in it's earthly hole.
Where do you hide this soothing balm,
This panacea, better than all,
The ultimate serum which through mere sight,
Does push away my untimely pall.
Leaving but my essence to dance with you,
My mortal being silenced for a few.


O mother of many, how do you care,
For all like they were your own,
Feeding them, cleansing them, cradling them beside you,
Giving them a home.


Why do you let them ravage you so?
Without getting your heartbeat up,
And why do you wreak such havoc and death,
Upon such a slight brawl?


Many things you are my dear darling,
But noones to command and call,
For many lovers might die at you feet,
But you are their final sprawl.