I cry in shock, my sense of surety lost.

And with that loss, my heart is rent asunder,

A shattered joy as fragile as morn’s frost.

My soul, enshrouded in this blackest thunder,

Recoils with lacerations madly cross’d,

As Love, as e’er the greatest human-hunter,

Doth choose its targets new—my dreams deglossed,

Exposed to Time through countless human blunders.

This night shall sleep evade me, pass me by,

And shocked, and wide-eyed, I, stillèd, will lie

To fear my dreams, to watch my wants expire…

I pray this time’s not past; I scream, I cry,

And grasp the floating memories—O fie!

What spirit’s taken you, my one desire?


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