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Sunday, January 13, 2008

Oh! Coy Maiden


I,
wear a hot torture on my mind,
and turned cold as dry ice.
Am I worth the tears when you sleep
and a place in the illusions you keep?
Strength is what I seek with hope.
Oh God! give us the reason to cope,
These moments put me on a tight rope.

You,
with those thousand kisses bright,
wish to be my soul.
Am I worth this noble mien?
As the warmth in the summer,
is the breath between your lips.
As the Rose in May heat,
can I provide the shade you seek?

We,
Oh! Coy Maiden,
is it a perception or a torn heart?
Or a reflection of our nostalgia?
I wish not to annihilate my soul,
And I mean no harm to thee.
As a bramble steel,
understand: Never we can set ourselves free.

Comments are not invited for this poem for personal reasons.