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Friday, August 26, 2005

Dark, Bounteous Maiden

Dark, Bounteous Maiden.
It is you I spurned.
It is your image I burned, in a thousand fires.
It is you I hurt.
A hatred so bitter it knew no bounds; this ire.

Dark, Bounteous Maiden.
It is you I desired.
It is your gentle touch, your careful caress.
It is you I longed for.
A passion so intense it knew no sanity, at best.

You dreamy eyes, your facile smile,
You hid from me. How could you know?
Crossed, emotional stars of the passing while.

Now, here I find, on this last mile,
You changed. How your face did glow.
The stars, they taunt; their wit, their guile.

Dark, Bounteous Maiden.
It is you I hold.
It is your image I etched, with a thousand knives.
It is you I cherish.
A heart so loving, it will live a million lives.


Now here's one that's a little, well, obvious. Nothing wrong with the obvious, save for the fact that there are people who feel that it's not necessary to state. Obvious is as obvious does, I guess. Perhaps this is something that you can relate to, any of you. Or isn't it?
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