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Desire of the Scarlet Princess

- Desire of the Scarlet Princess -
An Expression of My Yearning Heart

If I must sing for my love to come, this is my tune�
For a princess must use what arts she learns, soon.

A body alone is merely cold, dead matter so inert,
Without the vibrant spark of life to grant it motion�
And what is the spirit, but a fair light so very alert!
It is truly alive, with the essence of all our emotion.
Some are beautiful and strange, in so many ways�
Works of art so pristine and perfect for all to see!
Some labor to become still more, all of their days.
Others labor for liberty, to become a person free!
My hand is that of the artist, and I am my canvas,
As I apply color to my lips, or blush to my cheek.
The way I do wear my hair as well, more or less�
All of this is art, and for art�s sake I am not meek.
Beautiful and strange am I, and I cannot do other!
And so in garments of black and purple, and red,
I am a princess without a kingdom; like a mother:
But one who is a child of her own creation, bred.

I am of my own making, so whole and complete,
And yet unfinished, without that one thing I crave.
Love so tender, a fellow heart so kind and sweet,
To raise me up from sorrow like life from a grave!

Yet I cannot command others to love me selfless,
For selfish are the hearts of men who see me not!
Though they look upon me, many lies to confess,
Within their eyes, making all lying words naught�
Thinking I do not know their mind, and yet I can.
For my heart is open enough to feel many things!
Long gone, is the hour when I was born a man�
And I seek my brighter day, and all that it brings.
My seeking is a yearning and burning hot desire!
Where is the love whose touch shall ignite flame?
I hunger for such a love, until I fear I shall expire.
There is for such all-consuming desire, no name!
And yet I live and I pine for something so rare�
Something beautiful and strange: my soul�s mate.
I try to imagine, what hand might caress my hair,
That same hand on my body, in passion to sate!

I can almost feel the pleasure, the peace of love,
Rushing upon me, like lightning upon the fields�
Like the wind caressing those clouds high above.
So would be the hand of love and all love yields!

Touching me in intimate splendor with such skill,
A whisper of loving words in my ear, seductive!
Until at last I surrender unto love itself my will�
But for now I weep until I have no tears to give.
No one can cry forever and dream of love as I!
Someone, somewhere, must see these words�
Like a message in a bottle, clear below the sky.
Is such a romantic notion so silly: or so absurd?
No; for I have lived, breathed, and bled for it�
A princess of scarlet sorrows, denied paradise!
Yet I must be bold, and keen must be my wit�
So that all my dreams, at last, I can fully realize.
Will you kiss me in the dark, lover I hope for�
Until our sweat anoints us like a sacred nectar?
Sorrow is my coffin of glass, and I wait in store,
For the kiss that will, new life, to me so confer.

My lips are moist, and I lick them in promise�
Of more delicious sport, betwixt lovers as one!
My heart is pure, and open to the heat of bliss,
Blood red, snow white, my soul never undone.

I am the princess, and my desire is boundless�
If love is a treasure, then to gain it is my quest!