waited
for your calle todaye
when it did not come
i kurst' 
this cold and
krewel daye

oft played
are the games
of love and lyfe
skillfullye laide
are the snares
and traps
we playe the hunter
we are the baite
 be it known to alle
 we are the prey

 and i
knowinge the price
of painfulle lessons learned
forsooke that knowledge
which thru livinge
alle mustte earne
and thought
to safely
lure you in
withe 
mine open hearte

yes
i kurse
this bryghte and sunnye daye
shoulde not the skye
be fulle of kloudse an' fey ?

'twoulde match my moode...

.
.
Pic Poem
http://oi65.tinypic.com/dq2i48.jpg
.
.