WOUNDS OF LOVE

This light, this devouring fire,
This grey landscape encaging me.
This sorrow born of one idea.
This anguished sky, world and hour.

This grieving blood, this dandy art,
Lyre without a pulse now, lascivious torch.
This bull sea goring my flesh.
This scorpion thriving in my heart.

These are love's garland, bed of a wounded man
Where I lie sleepless, dreaming of you
In the ruins of my shattered soul.

And though I'd climb a peak of wisdom
Your heart's valley is a fearsome view
Of hemlock, bitter passion encompassing all.