So as It is

As the lands a raven scours
for insects little and some
So longs my heart for those hours
that surely wouldn't come


As a carpenter heedfully checks
if tarnished is his wood
So ponder I the facts
has this ended for good?


As a nail in steel is hammered
that resists its new-found tune
So finds my being asundered
by this pain I'm now immune


As a wanderer on his trail embarking
where the skies the limits set
So attempt my pointless besetting
where a yes thus wins the bet


As a tree its roots firm planted
in the earth itself to nurture
So leave my soul departed
to search for greener pastures


As the winds of March strong churn
and time so meekly flies
So unwilling did I learn
that love can't never die.