Metus - Poem by Leslie Sharp
How has thou my love lost my love.
on your delicate eyes are the knife that renches my heart.
Upon once a time your love was the rose that grew within me
Tis now but a wilted rose taunted with thorns
What now my love that my eyes should settle upon you
no more then a lost touch and a passing smile.
I am lost now, lost to the furthest places of my soul.
And I find that returning an unkindly quest.
The gray dawn as my heart so reluctently rises
Fearfull of what the heart might return, its boon of tears
Tis is upon this heart that such a great dispare lay,
to consider in time that which is prefect and except less!
To live a life that falls upon a wasted ground
Tis no more or less a life of meger mean.
Should failure er wouldst mean mine great dispair
Yet to risk a fall too depths darkest corners of my mind...
Ready... steady me now.
Cast now thee thy gauge though be me bewildered and lost
Once and only once, never to be regained, forever distant
Then may-haps to fall upon a place true
The rise er the terror of unknown hue
The unfertile soil from which no union of life nor love can grow?
Or be this that place where once all men be made kings
Tell me softy you now,
whisper it as a magic word forever bound to the edges of silence
A treasure so dear a whsiper more would it fall.
Will all me made in me
or be but a large measure of a failed heart.
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