Our Marriage Poem by Nero CaroZiv

So once I have thought how sweet it is to love!
And so I did follow in aught how beguiling is young desire!
And thus I have endured the pleasing pains we prove
When we first approach our love's fire!
And in truth our pains of love were sweeter far
Than all other pleasures were or are.

Our early sighs which were  from our love blown
Did but gently heave and calm the heart:
Even the tears we  shed together and alone
Cured, like trickling balm, their smart:
As young lovers, when we lost our  breath,
we bled away in an easy soothing death.

But now I ask why should a foolish marriage vow,
Which long ago in years and seasons was made,
Still oblige us to each other now,
When passion is lost and love decayed?
We loved, and we loved, as long as we could,
Till our love was loved out in us both;
But our marriage is dead when the pleasure and fun are fled:
It was pleasure first made it an oath.
Yet with time and in years it grew into despise and loath

Yet now I ask not the cause why it turns sullen spring
That so long delays her flowers over our heads to bear;
Why warbling birds forget to sing, and quite are the lake rings
And winter storms invert the year under its gloom we lost our cheer
Roses are gone; and fate provides
To make it spring away where she resides.

And in this world of prison and loath in which we stubbornly stay
Your indifference of a spectator who is idle and aloofly sits
An icon of more a beholding than caring in a cold detached play
Of estranging and abandoning rather than amending my troubled wits

Take for instance the times when I enjoy glad occasions
Or in sad times when I wail and utter my pains and woes
The first kind you encounter with sulphuric retreats of desperation
While on the second you offer no kindness, a total cruelty in shows

Finding no delights in my mirth nor rues in my successes
Mocking me in my laughs, and when I cry
You laugh hardening ever more your remote heart and withdrawn passes
Where are this love and passion that used to dwell in your eye


And nothing in me can move you, nor mirth nor moan
Oh love, what is the process that has turn you into senseless stone!
How great our mutual grief, our joys how few,
Time have the slow years not brought to view

Your voice once so sweet encouraging and calm
Now can shedder glass and is heard through like drums
It beats to battle; dreadful bells that awaken alarms
Your face, once my phantom, delights of fancy, comes
In front of me to give the battle its utmost climax


Ah, the neighbors and other bold acquaintances
On us they have drown their social acceptances
claiming we have the perfect life in pure marriage
little they know the horses hooked behind the carriage
Would ever such horses and carriage move forward
Sodomy and agony; suffocating oppression I feel so awkward


Shall I long and yearn to be happy again when I am alone
Do the things I want and call the day my own
Stop being dependent, be secure within and can say
Be your worse darling I have lived my day

Ah, be fair or foul, rain or shine
Who cares, my joys in spite fate are mine
No one on earth and nor you over me has power
Free from what has been I will seek my rebirth hour


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