It happens that I am tired of loving.
It happens that I now loathe the sound of your voice.
It happens that thine beauty of both body and person ist the bane of mine love's detestable yet diserable existence.
So why then o' my fair haired Goddess must you torment and treat me so?
Why must you have me think one thing, and another know?
Thou must be ashamed of mine love.
For of mine love for thou mine fellow friends do knowest.
But what of yours?
For thou proclaimed thy love in thine faithful vow.
But of mine love knowest not your friends allow?
I beseech thee to take heed in this dreadfull game you play with mine heart.
You asked of me once and I answered,
But yet I still do look to that fatefull day wence this game of lust shall end and faithfull love shall start.
I welcome your hand as mine guide,
But only wence thou hast stopped this inconstant jest of seek and hide.
 Alucarda Incarnate · Sat Jun 17, 2006 @ 12:02pm · 1 Comments |
