Started this out with love,

With a little despair,

Started this out with

Wander,

With pander,

With something for you to wonder,

About and lost, and in and out,

So I had started, almost there,

Walking and living in despair,

And now love was supposed to follow

Me,

And the fountain was to give some history,

Some history of being thirsty,

Some pages read of the misery.

We had it,

We were almost there,

I am empty and not full,

Looking for despair.