I am, Catullus

I am, Catullus

Oh my Catullus who could have known

So quick with mine temper I would have shown?

I am what I am as so moulded am I

I gaze and behold the qualms in thine eye.

Oh my Catullus by thy compassionate grace

My leman, my love, my soul’s sweet embrace

Thine affections return to mine aching heart

Thy care, thy kindness once more impart.

Oh my Catullus never I’ll change,

Thus making my sorrows ever sound strange.

I am what I am as so moulded am I

The mark of a soul borne straight from the sky.

Warrior Princess