The heart is tranquil when it should be worried,
Instead it is worried when it should be tranquil,
The heart just cannot comprehend what it longs for,
The heart knows the way but it is hesitant for some reason,
Like a horse in confusion when he is being asked to cross a river,
To put trust in his partner or to trust his own self,
His instinct is akin to Navier or perhaps even stronger,
Everything is in asunder for he knows not the depth,
Mute talk in whisper panders the wretched soul,
It may take just a few breaths or it may take a life time,
The sublime Equus trying its best to console,
For getting his trust, is not just a matter of time,
Rhythmic splashes sending waves through the Rhine,
Leaving eternal whispers echoing the bank behind.
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