journal/Drafts/pretty iesu.md

Well, my true love, He dost want me and I don't understand For He wants someone perfect and I'm really quite bland I cannot endure even the slightest of pain But I welcome him in, o'er my heart He must reign

Fairwell to old passions, fair well to old self, Oe'r the earth I will ramble, as the Baptist himself And when I am weary, perhaps I will cry And think of my Iesu, for I am his bride

Well, I wished I was an angel, had wings and could fly Far away to my lover's lodgings tonight I'd drawn nigh