A Zeitgeist of Limerence

The idea of her has got me imprisoned,
Along great spans of time, she stands by a cliff.
Her form, vague and waning,
As the wind blows away her essence.

Mind in dissonance, heart in shreds,
Yearning consumes me, a relentless ache,
All coherence lost
The price of my devotion,
A curse of passions unquenchable.

Like a hound beneath the glaring sun,
I can only crave the solace of a distant stream.