I feel a little crazy,
I feel a little mad,
I trampled down a daisy,
and felt a little sad.
I searched through air and water,
through fire and the earth,
to find out if the martyr
had ever given birth.
No one could tell me more than
what I already knew;
No more I need to see man,
for his virtues are few.
Whereat my foot soon stumbled,
and I fell on my face;
My starving belly rumbled,
so I quickened my pace.
And lonely I now wander over shifting sands
Lo, these years of longing just to shake some hands.
But damned to desert regions without friend,
chained to this secluded dream I bend.
So all is striving for a breeze,
Someone come to visit, please.
I'm dying all alone,
withered down to bone.
And all is dust.
Won't you just
let me
free.
Tale Told 