The Heart's Desire Poem by Donatus Valepidus

Oh, the heart that drives the soul,
Never knowing when to stop or go,
Although, while its limits are sometime known,
Like a bird that just has flown,
It returns broken and in mourn.

Oh, the heart that drives the soul,
Wanting things unobtainable so,
Reaching its plateau, it stops alone,
Only desiring a friend to bemoan,
It returns broken and in mourn.

Oh, the heart that drives the soul,
The tragedies that it does undergo,
Just one friend, it asks so prone?
One meager companion may I loan?
It returns broken and in mourn.

Oh, the heart that drives the soul,
Now so feeble and so low,
Woe, such feelings have never been shown!
Surely it has reaped what it has sown,
It returns broken and in mourn.

Oh, the heart that drives the soul,
Realizing its frailty now and evermore,
For it's the heart's fault and only its own,
It is now for too late to even postpone,
It returns broken and in mourn.