Down labyrinthian chasms,
He wandered lost, confused.
His body wracked with spasms,
His fragile soul was bruised.
And yet he was much happier,
He ever guessed or knew.
He parried love's thrust rapier;
Yet it struck and stuck him through!
'I'll meet you on the morrow,
When the hard times are improved.
And stay the rampant Zorro,
Who carves our future's groove.'
He is no prince of darkness,
For he likes the light of truth.
But he drops the hints regardless,
Of that cliché 'troubled youth'.
'They say I am love's bandit,
But you know I'm truly good.
For as I understand it,
I'm a modern Robin Hood! '
He's just a new pretender,
For the Gothic crown - uncouth.
With an inchoate agenda,
All wild of claw and tooth.
'They say I am love's bandit,
And so the lie has stood,
As a compliment, back-handed,
For a truth that never could.'
'They say I am love's bandit,
And it's trees they see not wood.
I'm open, honest, candid,
And still, misunderstood! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem