If I speak the truth,
Under the cold light of the moon,
I wish I had never met you.
You painted yourself a saint—
Sweet, devoted, promising the world.
But you were a thief,
Taking everything from me,
Leaving nothing but emptiness.
......
I strive with all myn might to still the call,
For love that once was deep, now turned to thrall.
I gave thee all, yet thou didst trample me,
And scorned mine heart, with no pity to see.
I fight to hold my wrath from thee,
That thou might feel the weight o' mine agony.
I turn mine eyes from likenesses we made,
For they bring naught but sorrow, pale and fade.
......
The sorrowful casket that consumed her,
Was illuminated by the trail of light behind,
The glistening halo of her messed white hair raised over,
She suffered the grief of the darkest kind.
The soft silk danced among her legs,
Growing smoother each second,
Each thread resembled the perfection of her mother,
But she was finally at a dead end.
......
Lochinvar’s eyes stole her heart,
Her dreams gave its wings to arteries,
Two hearts whispered in love,
Exchanged kisses and wed in a cove,
His eyes spoke never ending words,
That only her heart could read,
The dusk travelled no feed,
Love rhythms played its treat,
Dawn was never to apparently appear,
The sun was on her shy to reappear,
......
I strive with all myn might to still the call,
For love that once was deep, now turned to thrall.
I gave thee all, yet thou didst trample me,
And scorned mine heart, with no pity to see.
I fight to hold my wrath from thee,
That thou might feel the weight o' mine agony.
I turn mine eyes from likenesses we made,
For they bring naught but sorrow, pale and fade.
......
If I speak the truth,
Under the cold light of the moon,
I wish I had never met you.
You painted yourself a saint—
Sweet, devoted, promising the world.
But you were a thief,
Taking everything from me,
Leaving nothing but emptiness.
......
Lochinvar’s eyes stole her heart,
Her dreams gave its wings to arteries,
Two hearts whispered in love,
Exchanged kisses and wed in a cove,
His eyes spoke never ending words,
That only her heart could read,
The dusk travelled no feed,
Love rhythms played its treat,
Dawn was never to apparently appear,
The sun was on her shy to reappear,
......
The sorrowful casket that consumed her,
Was illuminated by the trail of light behind,
The glistening halo of her messed white hair raised over,
She suffered the grief of the darkest kind.
The soft silk danced among her legs,
Growing smoother each second,
Each thread resembled the perfection of her mother,
But she was finally at a dead end.
......