Your bonds have cut my heart
My feet are not firm
And against you, my strength is a sigh.
It is a bad alliance.
I am duty bound to love you,
But you have not returned compassion for like
And when I shrank from you, you raised your hand against me.
Your force against my fear has left me sick.
And the gorge between us now is bloody with my attempts to cross it.
All my desire is love, the will of Love
Yet the world and the husband of my breast
Are my suffering
That which is closest knit to my soul is closest to my sorrow
If it were war, or death, or a common cause separating us
Then perhaps I would not be sick of love
But it is a nightmare of intrigue and betrayal
With paths leading to destruction
My house is ruined
He powers himself with fear and secrecy
And his soul is a bottomless abyss
Into which my soul is falling
My friends and family have circled around in my defense
He is on the other side, with his pride
He will not reach for me, and I ache
With the ache that characterizes our situation
What good is this defense?
What good the comfort?
Of what use is duty with no love?
The gorge is too deep.
I am bloodied, and he refuses to risk the crossing.
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