My sweet, softly.
Softly my sweet
As I walk into the night –
Is that fear that furrows your brow my love?
I reach -
But I dare not feel the slick of your skin;
Watch the torments torture your heart.
I will go softly my sweet, my dearest,
Into the darkness and –
Oh, so softly my sweet.
Do not speak precious words to me now, –
Harsh words – not as I go into the dark;
But please, do wipe the sweat from your brow,
And move not your lips and be silent.
My dearest, I have made my oaths to you
And yet, you say no.
You still say no – you are not to.
So why is it you still ....
My love, do not touch me like such
With heartening words and calloused fingertips.
I beg of you, Cease! Or I will be forced to stay;
I beg of you, Please! Do not make me bear
The sorrowful words that proceed from your lips.
Just let me go softly my dearest,
My sweet, let me go softly.
© Shane Leigh
This was my first poem published to this site. For the most part is has not changed, but I have added a few things along with adding to the title.
Is the one that is passed truly the one that treads in the Darkness?