I don't think I might make it through tonight

<p>Hopkins had thought me the first wind of love
It flew so gentle and sweet
the kind of wind, when I look at this email-"rejection", I wish it'd come back to me
I'd look up the sky,
there! the moon would slowly try to come by
and thence i'd realized, my love for her isn't that moon waiting night
to finally cast by
Nor the jolly birds on summer time
who sing, sing, and sing and finally lost their rhyme</p>

<p>But, it was love, and only love in its purest form.</p>