Contempt Ye Me!

What a world in which we live
That so commonplace is a thought to shed
To share is not an act of grace
By God-given right we have our voice
What have I, then, to say
At last?
Day's dawning crack of thunder roll
'Cross your ears to sounding drums

By what we have yet not to say?
Offended are offenders, dear
Guiltless, indeed, I not lay
Your tearstreaked memory does not
Withhold from me this night
Nor wrench from me my grasp
On to your cold, dead eyes

Whatforart thou wilt to speak?
Come, now! darling, hear me not?
You saw your own in me my heart
My soul for you I sing
For you I will hear nevermore
The song I once knew o' so well
Now where have ever you been gone?

Return to me, if just once more
That just to spit on me at last
Contempt!
Indeed you swear not your own life
But mine

And ever was mine lost

Into your unpraying hands.