Heart.

I am a ship with wind-torn sails
a bird with tattered wing
I am a chair with rusty nails
a lark forgotten how to sing.

My constant quest holds but one aim-
finding thee, who can repair me
to complete me once again
for I shall never leave thee.

Doth not matter wind's direction
nor the turning of the tide
'tis thoust steadfast affection
and unwillingness to hide.

'Tis everything in the world
and nothing I have ever known
'tis my treasure until I've grown old
and above me seeds are sewn.