Lament

[dquer]

This heart is defied by an ode all too true;
Beauty has shied at one glance of your eye.
I’m nearly crying now for such want of you.

Unknown to your soul, my heart wails anew:
At the pop of your smile or a silky goodbye,
this heart is defied by an ode all too true.

A chord struck in contrast rings out just as blue
as eyes not as green… as lips not so dry.
I’m nearly crying now for such want of you.

Thoughts jumbled by those hands, no hope to construe
how you plague me so; or better yet, why
this heart is defied by an ode all too true.

Your form and mystique draws tears not so few
down the ridge of my cheek, ‘til I swear and I lie.
I’m nearly crying now for such want of you.

Is it useless, I ask, to want and pursue
a fantastical soul? Or more wrong to imply?
This heart is defied by an ode all too true.
I’m nearly crying now for such want of you.

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