Scar Tissue.
My dear the scars do wound so deepest deep
Your kiss the blade that drips my sorrows blood
Why dost my very veins to endless seep
And mar the sacred ground where love once stood
Death shall not bestow a kinder peace
Nor grant to me a closing of this night
Nor draw conclusion gentle in relief
For I am lost to cuckolds saddened plight
Oh wistful memories why dost thou chant
Of mockery and loathing of this fool
Am I not flesh and blood to love recant
And blameless for to think your love a jewel
Wounded like a beast yet man I be
My heart to break for ere in wonder why
And would I could of your memory be free
And once more find the happiness of I
Brendan
Poetry by Brendan Finbarr Tully
Read 1264 times
Written on 2006-05-22 at 15:22
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