Of what divisive separations breed
From the reed bed cut away just like a weed,
My music ppl curse, warn and heed,
Sliced to pieces my bosom and heart bleed,
While itell this tale of desire and need.
Whoever who fell away from the source,
Will seek and toil until returned to course,
Of grievances i sang to every crowd,
Befriended both the humble and the proud,
Eachformed conjecture in their own mind,
As tho to my secrets they were blind,
My secrets are buried within my grief,
Yet to the eye and ear, thats no relief,
Body and soul both unveiled in trust,
Yet sight of soul for body is not a must.
