There´s a sense of longing in me
As I read Rosemary´s letter
Her writing´s honest
Can´t forget the years she´s lost
In isolation
She talks about her love
And as I read
"I´ll die alone"
I know she was aching
There´s a certain detail seen here
The pen must have slipped to the side
And left a stain
Next to his name
She knew he was gone
And isolation
Is all that would remain
"The wound in me is pouring out
To rest on a lover´s shore".