Blue Boy

All awhile a stream of questions pours over my tongue;

My being seemingly possessed;

And my heart feeling as if it would burst;

And it does not stop until my words are as dry as desert sand;

And a simple thought arose in my mind, what can all this mean?

An inner voice tells of a spirit that is a helper for one’s infirmities;

My body, imbued with melancholy should merely utter;

Indeed, my heart is strong-beating;

I am energy like any idea compressed;

Meanwhile I remain unsure;

For I am a troubled being perpetually unburdening.

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