Far away

 

There is a bird, struggling against a squally storm,

enfeebled, not in form.

Far, far away from the bush,

at best finds its birdís nest.

 

There is a ship, lurching over a choppy sea,

forlorn, lost and wee.

Far, far away from the coast,

no way to a safe bay?

 

There is a leaf, spinning around a gusty gale,

so helpless and frail.

Far, far away from the tree

and bound for the fallís ground.

 

There is a pain, always checking my broken sleep.

It makes my flesh creep.

Far, far away from my love,

waiting for the morning.