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Night's Illusion

a quatern

The nightís illusion, pain thereof;
My suffering is not for sale!
Why is your sense of courtly love
to torture me beyond the pale?

My protest, neutered, by your pride
The nightís illusion, pain thereof;
My tongue, the stallion that you ride
To mock the semblance of true love!

In life, your gentle heart behooves
But in my dreams, you dominate
The nightís illusion, pain thereof;
My flesh is roasting on your grate.

My masculinity, subdued,
In dreamscape proffered, just because
Your warmth of love, compares not to
The nightís illusion, pain thereof!


ReggiePoet
Written by ReggiePoet (Reggie)
Published
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