by Maya Halma

Mine own thoughts for thee did hesitate

Mine own strength for thee did flood

These woes I do hold with utmost hate

And apologies for poisoning our love’s blood

My grasp on thee is so dear, yet so shaken

Our love could bloom or our love could wither

Each breath of thy air almost forsaken

And I fall with strength with thou hither

Oh, but thou art so rare, such a mystery

Never in my voyages hath I seen such art

I must wonder about your history

And if thy unreal love may rip us apart--

Thou must not declare thy love

If it may harm me with a final shove.