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Between my trips to dreams, to hopes;
and fleeting bouts of blinding light,
I sometimes fail to watch my thoughts
an' 'fore I know they you.

The light escapes my every grip,
she shines and dims to show she can,
but when I tire an' you invade my mind...
the light! comes back to see you shine.

With you walks light; the flaky muse,
she thinks my mind should be abused...
by love; that lie romantists coin
for lust that tempts as evil toils.

My mind is mine, and mine alone,
my thoughts of you are freedom's will;
not for once may you think else'
or risk the light for dark, I will.

For you, the light will never win,
against the ice that has me cold;
immune to life's truths an' pains
that often root from love not gained.

A disease--! from which we all could die,
a serpent's spell that lulls the child;
until it ends and in its hold:
we choke; swallowed by love's strong hold.
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Submitted on
September 3, 2008