For she who loves me

For it is she who loves me,
despite being all alone;
It is she who tends me,
despite my anxious tones.
And when I stifle a soft moan,
It is she who soothes me;
through my aching bones.

It is she who loves me,
Despite my anxiousness.
It is she who loves me,
Through my cataracts;
And when times cruel staff,
Breaks my rotten soul;
It is she who loves me,
And cures my bitter throws.

It is she who loves me,
Despite my restless self.
It is she who loves me,
Against the wraiths of debt;
And when the wolves so rent,
To tear my skin to shift;
It is she who loves me,
And so rests my soul to sleep.

 ©  adh 2016