My soul feels like a withering rose as if the winter dawn has falling
early upon me for the last once more
My body feels weak, tired, and beaten like it could travel not even one more GOD forsaken lonely mile
For I wish to rekindle under a twinkling star to let the dark kindred skies Rain wash over my very mortal soul
Randy Hogan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/star-57/
