The soul is sole, a piece incomplete, alone it weeps it wants a thing from one, that isn't meant for him to keep. It craves a shoulder to lean, yearn to cry, to wail aloud to let heart release, but the tears I long to shed have no place to kneel, with the one I crave to share it all is just out of the reach, but even so the dream lives on, inside me, and the heart still treasures the love alone to keep.