Claddaghed Lamentations

Claddaghed Lamentations

In the haze of the rays of the sun’s dying phase,

I miss the blaze of the maze that thine eye displays.

I miss the tone of the drone of thine exaggerated groan,

As thou intone and rezone thine endeavours yet unsewn.

In the glare of the flare of the e’ens cooling air,

I miss the care of the prayer slipping thy stare.

I miss the joys of the noise of thine logical ploys,

As thou employs with a poise, making egos envoys.

In the ease of the breeze of dusk’s cool wheeze,

I miss the tease of the sprees thine mind doth seize.

I miss the spiel of the zeal of thine mooted appeal,

As thou reveal the ideal to the point of surreal.

In the depth of the death of the day’s last breath,

I miss the coquet that beset the heart’s duet.

I miss the fires of desire that thine soul transpires,

As thou acquire and rewire my being entire.

In the ways of the strays that love hath razed,

I, disowned and dethroned, hath become a discarded rib bone.

In thine snare, I despair at the ache I can’t bear,

At the boy who deployed and my heart destroyed.

In the disease of the lees of thine ardour’s freeze,

I repeal at thine heel as before thy mercy I kneel.

I am beset that we met and consumed with regret,

At the squire that conspired and my soul retired.      

Warrior Princess