Desires, they writhe, a fevered dance,
Within a heart that knows no rest,
Desires, they writhe, a fevered dance,
This spring, your presence unblessed.
You saw the stranger as your kin,
And kin as strangers in your sight,
You saw the stranger as your kin,
What deceptions bloomed in faith’s light.
Not fate's cruel hand, nor fault of theirs,
Not fate's cruel hand, nor fault of theirs,
My heart, it vanished, lost in air,
Within your trust, it disappeared.
Tread softly, tyrant, heed this plea,
God is witness to each stride,
Tread softly, tyrant, heed this plea,
The path you tread, where prayers reside.
Desires, they writhe, in endless ache,
A restless heart, its spirit frail.
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