Cold Hearted Poem by Rohan Sen

Across the moors the eyes survey,
gathering night birds and o'wisps in my sight,
a breeze of chill upon my face,
rocks me, as lullaby, into the night

I must wake, must unrest,
furtive in the night, she walks to me,
battling icy winds against her breast,
for each night, a lover she dares to be

Tonight she plays me, burdens a wait,
Am innocent, yet prisoner, awaiting abuse,
be ambrosia or hemlock, I shall swallow bait,
departed when she, garland me a noose

Creeps up to me frost, tips of each finger kissed,
feathered scavengers wait to see me bed,
I keep bartering breath for mouthed mist,
my life balanced on promises soft said

Sudden eclipse of moon shudders me awake,
Its not celestial but a heavenly body the same,
as she disrobes and asks that I take,
hunter is the hunted, longing to be tamed

When night walks away, waking a yawning morn,
I must send her away too, a brute in me be reborn,
we both face scorching day, separated by mortal density,
to make dearer the prize, for wait resembles eternity