The stones whereat, in vision, I see,
The courting cries of cicadas,
Are scorns, and all thy noise,
trifled from astray of honesty.
Thine eyes, a testament of beauty
That dilapidate upon
O'! Stars! thy's hissing word
Like Odysseus' deadly deceit.
Thy heart, once purest gold
Untainted by the world
Hath become stained
To mark, a smudge, a scar.
To ---
I know not of worth and value
Nor can I hold my place in your world.
That honesty and truth is surrendered
In the wakes of a single lie.
I applaud those who never lead astray
But you my dear, have stained my conscience
Of love and trust
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 12:42 AM UTC
The stones whereat, in vision, I see,
The courting cries of cicadas,
Are scorns, and all thy noise,
trifled from astray of honesty.
Thine eyes, a testament of beauty
That dilapidate upon
O'! Stars! thy's hissing word
Like Odysseus' deadly deceit.
Thy heart, once purest gold
Untainted by the world
Hath become stained
To mark, a smudge, a scar.
To ---
I know not of worth and value
Nor can I hold my place in your world.
That honesty and truth is surrendered
In the wakes of a single lie.
I applaud those who never lead astray
But you my dear, have stained my conscience
Of love and trust
