No door, nor single lock can latch
this heart, though brittle it may seem,
for ever open arms to catch
shall wait, and in this passage, dream,
for terrible is hatred spent,
and harsh is he who shant relent.
And so such punishment I own-
not an angel shall rejoice,
for mercy won and sin atoned
cannot begin to suffer voice
to all the heavy choices thus,
made and sullied, false or just.
Henceforth, dreamer, hold thy tongue,
and do not marr the air with song,
still your breath and eager lungs,
for stiller are the hours long
and in such patience must remain,
if lovers are to meet again.
For A.
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