But while she walks round no life,
Is all but life in me to fight,
Stirs in dark, hides through light,
A ling’ring spirit ere close was nigh,
Dare myself a walk in ways I ne knew,
As a shadow close casts blood to brew,
Then, a quiet walk then was utter strife.

Within the clutches my nails soon broke,
Whose skin so pale, mine almost torn,
Whose watch even pierced sun at dawn,
Alas, no light would enter but here,
Last, my seconds deign the hours gone,
Is soon but fought my guilt is done,
For even silent whispers can me choke.

With every pace I forward was she turned,
With every breath my heart strung hers,
By light I would have known her first,
At that time she called to me a saviour,
But my lady, as said I am no better saint,
Here I am walking the slowest dare to faint,
For to close mine eyes is fate too burned.

Though sworn her eyes tilted ways to speak,
In hearth she would soothe but vain attempt,
Nor would I listen lest my heart in contempt,
As given words unheard are better yet said,
For truth bleeds more than lies could heal,
Worse was I whose kindness could never feel,
At last to mine the words I could never beat,
As much the ground walked with harsher feet,
Is sooner to hell that I am bidden to seek.

Tear my skin from flesh that no flesh hide,
Cast mine eyes to sun no light conjure day,
Bemuse me with words heard what ere be lay,
Carry me through the pave, road and bench,
The softest sound thy footsteps echo more,
Having lost my weight well thrown too sore,
My feet shall carry the pain until I swim.

In glimpse of wood I sink before the ray,
Steps beknownst for land is not but mind,
In lieu my heart is but thirst to find,
Beholds the pale ghost whose ice so still,
Saps me my will how far my blood assured,
Signs her tears as she motions allured,
At once I join her in heart at bay.

Category:
Nocturnal, Poetry, Romance, Works
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