Again life draws her darker veil, not death
draws softly on the oar stroke ‘cross the sea,
a journey ‘gainst the tide of Cupid’s wrath,
the lonely isle Her barren sanctuary.
She hangs the Love strung noose, my fair ‘Lisbeth:
another final dance with Love for me?
Again I feel the sweet scent of Her breath,
against my chest I hear Her tears burn down;
a lush green valley’d world becomes our rest,
Her tears are wept by me; she soothes my frown.
Our pain subsides, alone we conquer death,
drawn over into Love, we are our home.
Called beauty (she) enlights the heavens, divine,
I’m consumed and consummated by her glow,
I melt inside Her heat, Her flame refines
from impure into Pure, my souls desire
no longer lusts but lavishes sublime,
our spirits sated two ‘come one combined.
Again we are alone, Her body warm,
She holds me, paralysed I feel her glow,
Her neon spark anticipated, sensed,
our feelings found and fought, for who will know?
Both Love and Languish secretly expressed,
forbidden bliss through decency unborn.
My tearful swell upon a maddening hour
cools painful stings within, without the will
to grieve, for all Her sweet-lip’d words turn sour,
a hollowed heart where Love now lifts its loss.
Her momentary blooming, precious flower,
my spirit drowned in seas I dreamed to cross.
