I wrote this during the semestral break, when I was deeply in love with her, and until this very minute, I am still am.
O Love Divorced, O wrong behold!
A cup I take to slay thee,
In eyes of wronged beheld like devil’s grins.
Now tell me Love,
Have you not slain the cup’s hand,
Had not by sword or heart?
Please tell me Love,
Not words not true,
The pain of a cut hand slays thee,
Like tear dripping blood’s tears.
Forgive me, dear,
Had I not seen, that my heart could not,
‘Tis blinded by little children’s merry steps.
Now take me dear,
Not as I am,
But take me Love,
For what I was,
O Selfish Puck.
- November 18, 2005
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