An Imaginative Adaptation Poem by Delicate Heart

were the air I fast would reach you.
No two ways under the strict curfew.
If the shapeless cloud am I by shade.
Will protect you lest you might fade.
If am I the nature surrounding most of us.
Will be near you till I turn into dust
If it happens that the sea becomes I.
will me send you so high waves, aye.
To cover your weary accessible place
Either to come back with your face.
Or at least with an immortal touch.
Of your pure skin that can clutch.
the psychological needs inside of me.
thus regain my self-esteem some fee.
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