In longing's grasp, a tempest's bitter squall,
We seek a port of refuge from it all,
Amidst the raging waves and thunder's call,
A haven in the storm, where hearts enthrall.

The lighthouse shines with beams of hopeful light,
Through darkened skies, it guides us through the night,
In longing's depths, our souls take flight,
To find a tranquil harbor, shining bright.

Through rain-soaked tears and winds that fiercely blow,
In stormy seas, where wild emotions grow,
We yearn for solace, a place to bestow,
Our aching hearts, where love's sweet waters flow.

In the arms of longing, we find our grace,
A port in the storm, a warm embrace,
Where love's true compass finds its rightful place,
In the depths of longing, our hearts we trace.

So, let the tempest howl, the waves reform,
In longing's embrace, we weather the storm,
For in this port of love, we find the norm,
A sanctuary, where hearts grow and transform.

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Valnuary, in the year 928 AF.