Just how it is (Rondeau)
Within these walls, of where I dwell
My life endures, a love-sick spell.
A little bird flies from the nest
with secrets not, beneath its crest.
The flies have fled, this place as well
No perfumed air or scents to smell,
no echoed coo's, sing through this shell.
Upon my lips, no kiss is pressed
...within these walls
I cannot force, nor can compel
for love to free me from this spell.
In fate I trust, my soul be blessed
That love will come to aid my quest,
Then swear I shall, to kiss and tell.
...within these walls.