T o r n

I am absorbed with her; she is deeply thinking of me, but I tragically know that she is being held tightly in the arms of another; her husband. My soul cannot rest easily, and my spirit is deeply troubled, longing for an absolution. How is it that this romantic web entangled me ? It constricts my every thought, paralyzes my feeling of freedom and yet, I find no better solace than in my continuation of loving her, without reservation ! My eyes weep sorrowfully over my beloved, and the depth and breadth of my cry is raw despair, like that which I have never known. Oh mother of mine, who took me to her breast, while in the innocence of my youth, shelter me from the woes of this world, but alas, a man I now am, but why do I pout as a child ? There is no life preserver to rescue from my drowning. Only the sharp pain of the midnight sting; the sting of knowing she desires me, and I of her but the perils of our circumstances forbid our indulgences. My love says to me "wait for me not, for I would slowly wither away in shame and agony if i knew that you, my beloved, whom I earnestly long for day and night, would wait upon a saddened wife of another. For me, I shall ascend to the highest mountains, where I shall hide my face away from this world, away from all who wish to comfort me ! I am reconciled to live out my days in mourning and despair, as is my love, the wife of another. For me, love is a beautiful tragedy