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Posted by kevo on 1/2/2005, 1:01 am Oh tortured soul! Why dost thou long after this temporal fancy?
Mine Locks - A Lament
Sweet locks, where hast thou gone?
Age, he who creeps in the shadow of youth, cameth abroad one dark eve
And took them! With them, cruel thing, he taketh mine virility
And most handsome looks.
And now, before myself in the glass, I see the face of a time past.
'Neath drooping lids and puckered flesh
In mine veins surge summers past, stolen kisses 'mongst the golden corn
And a long walk under the glorious firmament with mine dearest love.
Does not every man die alone? Am I to measure the weight of mine own soul against this mortal feculence?
Ah, cometh mine reply, wouldst your life have not been more blessed
Had thine enjoyed a full head of hair until Death deem it passed?
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