Dearest

I must speak to thee,
These words of love I feel within,
For to deny these words wouldst be a grave sin,
And yet to give into these words,
Would be breaking the very promise I did make to thee,
Meaning again,
I commit a wicked sin.

Oh now such love,
What must be done,
Forth I hast found my one...
And yet to thyne own self,
I was not true,
And so I cast myself,
Back onto you...

No words deep within,
Could ever say thous choice a sin...
For a sin would be...
What I hast done onto thee...

So then,
Oh cursed love,
Oh loving hate...
What shalt be done,
In order to regain my one?

Nothing,
Oh nothing canst be done,
For what hast past is past,
And so then must I go forth?

Ah but no,
No mine own heart is wicked...
Wicked and pale with myne own love
Myne own love, given to an angel of above,

And still yet I cry,
I cry a tear,
A tear of sadness,
Of sadness never ending....

These walls created to withstand a lovers broken heart,
Crumble at the touch of Cupids loving dart...
And yet myne own soul does feel empty,
For all I get, is useless pity...

But soft,
What are these thoughts ringing in myne own ear?
What is that, Do you not but hear?
It is merely a three word phase
Spoken to those of Love to end the hurt of those long lost days

When then,
If I hear such words,
Dost my heart still ache?
For those words..
Are merely fake...

Those words I hear,
within myne own soul,
Be those spoken,
So long ago...

I am not saddened by the fact of being in love,
But being out of the grace in which I love...

Oh...
Nothing dost seem right
I must have thee,
Back within myne sight...

Oh,
Sweet Love,
Oh Loving Hate,
Oh Hating sorrow...
and Sorrowing fool...

You are my lady,
You are my Love,
Oh that you only knew you where....