I admit I was not as perfect as you,
I admit the God who moulded me man
Who could not for life to spare
In a single touch my flesh to give,
Could never my fragile mind to give;
In deepest hour, in sounding sleep,
I had to die twice to live with you,
Must I grab hold of the noose to hold;
For these ropes are not mine own;
Here, the strings that pass me by,
The spider that webs its life unto me,
Can never poison my poisoned life,
Whether I go the roads or not,
Can never make you clearer in day,
The art each day shall rise anew
Now becomes the curse of my undoing.
I am not thine eyes; I cannot see,
Nor thine ears do I trust never in me,
Thy skin is my skin; thy blood is my blood,
Give me all the opioids of the world,
So no pain shall last as much endeared,
So let me sleep in this dark and hazy night,
That I may forget all I said in wretched light,
The road I knew was once so far, far from me,
Now the art I cast shall be mine heart to stab,
In fleeting woe this drives me away from ye.

Category:
Poetry, Romance, Works
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