Be my love, and see the flare,
My eyes, refulgent in your heart.
And be she, who in turn ensnares
blight to love for thee so fair.
Is he with whom my love grow’st,
And runs after belov’d’s parley?
What met your lips prognosticate
Thy life with he who loves thee?
Do thee bark a broken heart?
Oh be my love, and steadfast,
My faith and eyes towards you,
Then like a train, we shall derail,
And crash, burn and turn afew.
And with my wounds I prepare.
- January 25, 2006
To thee, My Lady
Do you know who is my lady?
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