Thursday, July 12, 2012

Folie à deux

Like lighted wick, does ardor burn
Too deep, alas, grief can run.
Yearning spouts, much like rain,
Pride to lose,wounds to gain.
Heavy are these words, much debt they bind,
To this leaden conscience of mine.
Blessed is that heart which bends,
Beginnings never know our ends.
Measure by measure, fate will avenge,
Each kindness it could not prevent.


Anonymous said...

Brilliant! Your long hiatuses don't suit you.

abhi said...

"Blessed is that heart which bends" -beautiful line!
Very nice poem on the whole too..

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