Your correspondence thundered through my head,
Gone suddenly, all that I thought was real.
Still blinded by your sun, I whirled in red,
Not knowing how to handle this ordeal.
It wasn't passion that you have revealed?
Was not I scorched by heat? Your verse was fire!
Why was the truth so cleverly concealed?
How aptly do you scribe without desire...
My knight, where did you hide your silver lyre?
The bells of love rang in my mind alone
What legacy had I through fortune's ire?
Love's ashes buried 'neath the graveyard stone.
Oh unrequited love, so wide your breadth!
And sharp the quill that pierced my very depth.
|