Pray not reduce me to this state--I cannot!
Ask that I would scrape the black and rotted
Barges that sweep doomed souls across the Styx;
Ask that I would care for lepers 'till I myself decay;
Ask that I would gather tides of men,
And charge hell's legion for your name;
Demote my soul to that of the careless
Bottom mole to eat worms in darkness' den.
I, your adorer, would do all these but one.
Forgive my state, my doom, my hate,
For your wish-commit me to such fate.
Dearest, ask me not!
For my love outstretched cannot pretend,
Nor my esteem endure, to be but friend.

12/24/2010

Posted on 12/25/2010
Copyright © 2024 Austin Halling-Rowe