kashshaptu

For Her:

'...I went to my Beautiful Rose,
To tend her by night,
But my Rose turn'd away with coldness and guilt,
And her thorns were my only Delight..'

I strive for you in vain.
A Smile of love,
Becomes a Smile Of deceit.
For all eternity i have forgiven you,
Yet you forsake me, again and again..

My Beautiful One, I fear,
Is nothing more,
Than a Harlot Dressed in Secrecy,
A Weeping whore.