The Loathing of Thy Eye

The Loathing of Thy Eye,
Drowned dignity away.
As my heart to be pierced,
By the edge of your filth.

To tell tales of affection,
Was to you, pleasantry.
An eye, which to me appeared,
As the sharpness of hatred.

I spoke, with rigidity in tongue,
To no one, who’d offer their heed.
“Go! Sweep the nectar from petals,
If we shape the world in loathing.
No more! I will live no more!
If I surely bow to the eye!”

I asked for love, in purity,
Nothing bitter detested me.
The wastelands called up,
Beside my frozen gates.

Thus, the world trembled,
Winter birthed a child.
I swam for God,
For Him, to be merciful.

I drew the curves of the Earth,
Gave tears for the elderly.
Yet, the simple stare of that eye,
Knew my love was born to die.

Drown! It shall drown!
In a pit of bubbling tar.
Blackened in shape,
As love became hate.
A dagger, whose edge, I abhorred,
In hand, pierced a heart, I adored.

A voice, from Heaven sang:
“Oh, pity!” I screamed.
What a cruel Earth, below!
Such a love, I knew not,
Of its place, in my heart.”

She, who despaired not,
Stayed beside my body.
I let the touch befall,
My blood rising tall.

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