What Heart In Substances, Is Bound In Its Depth

If I quilled my pen, would I find love again
What boundless beauty, is ebbed in my heart
Like solemn tears, which I seldom part

Would my heart be bestowed by the feelings I share
Would my hand be gentle, like the caress of a feather
Heavenly scent and by the lock of my stare
Would my heart be restored, by the feelings I share

What heart in substance, is bound in its depth
Would I be the beacon beneath heavens clef
As my heart has whispered like hooves upon my heart
Ebbed in my beauty is the purity in which I impart

Ebbed in my footprints alone in these sands
Am I the slain, with no blood upon hands
Meek as my footprints, in step upon these sands
Thou hath, seen the love which is ebbed upon my hands

Hollowed hooves from fallen skies
Have ebbed thy beauty; among the heavens sigh
Hollowed are my footprints among these sands
And yet there is hope that the world might understand

What love is hope by the seed of heart
Like lonely strangers, there are the tears, which I seldom part
Less I breathe, then to live, ebbed in my innocence
Among the shadow of these cliffs

What man or woman has know thy heart
Seldom by which, what is written with heart