My Poetry

I merely wish of thee
To know how my soul is freed
While my muse sweetly sighs
In the terror of her decree.

I seek nothing—not thy pity
Merely storms that wash me clean;
Merely whispers of the mountains
And the diamonds that charm the grass.

In youth’s dreams there stood a city
No true poesie has ever seen
There the rainbows of the fountains
Have faded with the years alas.

Love me or leave me
For the way I choose to bleed
Straight through thine eyes
If thou wouldst but see me.

There is a light in my lone cell,
The sight of a naked, old tree
Whose bird nest fell
Ere the wings were set free
And how stainless upon this scroll
I bear the songs of my soul
And the crypt that breathes through me
Is thy gift to see.