Where are the words I need?
Where is the eloquence?
My thoughts have gone to seed
My spirit flies from hence.
Why is my thought so dull?
Why have I naught to say?
I am but husk and hull
I am but grass and hay.
How can I seek for grace?
How can I be redeemed?
What will my pain erase?
What was it that I dreamed?
The sight of you will cure
The terrors I endure.
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