My Eye Is Clouded O'Er Poem by Colin Breck Boardman

My eye is clouded o'er,
All dry, no more to tear,
And shall my heart now toil no more
With shrinking from the fear?
My lungs are quite deflated,
Sheer-shallow'd by constriction,
Strangled tight and far from sated
By the coils of fate and fiction,
To my cost,
For I am lost.

Just one sighting, all I need,
Or silver sounds to ring encore,
For my dark eye to gorging feed
And with new heart to upward soar;
Then would I be gratefully inflated,
Bursting forth from out my binding stone,
Breathing airy freedom, all elated,
No longer only merely blood and bone,
To finally be near,
For thou again art here.