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Interrogation O Heart, why art thou so sad? The fear that clogs your arteries and clots your blood, I sense, Sinking like a vessel in a flood, You hold, More than should be had. Ah Yes,'tis true O Soul, I carry quite a weight; Has been a steady time now I've endured, Such ache that so desires to be cured, I find, Has little patience for its fate. Pray tell my friend, whatever could it be That assails you with such misery, The likes agains which you can't defend? Why should I in you confide, Can you feel as I do and weep with me, Are you able to still the storms of my sea, Or stand against the current of this tide? I may be Soul and you the Heart, But you can't deny this certain fact, That you and I swore to a pact, To share whatever secret sweet or tart. To you I'm tied and ever bound, With mutual dependency, Wrought from the same propensity; Woven in a tapestry profound. Shall not this certainty of truth annoint? Your tremors send echoes against my walls, I'm moved by the force of your wild calls; I comply with you as finger bends at joint. Since you demand in sharing equal part, Of this sickness, this pervasive plague To you, my Soul, I clarify what's vague; 'Tis love,'tis love that tortures this poor heart! |
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