Wherever hangest a fruit of heaven,
If thou wert to come upon it someday,
surely shalt thou taste its nectar,
and on thy palette shall not reside
ecstasy, for it beist most evanescent,
faith, for is thine most capricious,
love, for it bears concupiscence,
but loss, for thou shalt cherish a memory.
To the leaves that turn in our tide,
to the thorn that bleeds in my side,
to that angel in whom I confide,
and that demon with whom I preside
on the council of will, and decide
what all senses incessantly deride,
while the time and the life I divide
regardless of fate coincide.
To the wind that changes the season,
and changes that dawn without reason,
Hear me my people! with lucid intent
I am a scoundrel, I yearn for descent.
To indolence whose borders are wide,
to sloth and to greed your close guide,
to lust which you bed as a bride,
and the raging war from inside,
to love, loss, wounds and to pride,
as well morals in red hanging dried,
to your laws by which you abide,
yet question their purpose beside.
For the taste of mortality I did attempt,
thus fell from my throne I a discontent.
Hear me O’fallen, embrace and consent
mould me as flawed, lest I lament.
Wishful thought I O eternity thyne ,
now do regret I tasting such wine.
To heal that wound on this soul of mine
I feigned being blind to our rising sign.
Beyond horizons which were once in time
twixt fatuate virtue and vice benign,
from remnants of grace but thoughts malign
to fall this under I did not resign.
And Adam and Eve, of your legacy fine
forgive thee thy children for fates design.
Hear me thus progeny, ill fated and wronged,
in pursuit of some feeling, living I longed,
but Remember forever, from this parted sun
sans death all mortals immortals are one.
No more a fragrance to this dirt,
nor left a memory in its breath,
far and further as the roaming
takes me from my tree of birth.
Ashen turns the hue each walking
step thus taken in my search,
until I fear from with that grey
shall turn the pallor of my day.
Of that which I hope with yearn
know I not the least its fate,
but do I fear too it shall turn,
I shall too fear the pale one great.
Deign to draw, I! this divulging breath,
I draw compare too, pray of those needs,
yours, then mine, too our lives, zenith,
fate unto will, by fault doth leads.
Didst thou fail to gaze this way,
or ego faltered thy in that falling?
May thou endure forever I pray,
May thou live forever my darling.
Whence did I swear upon each branch,
to keepest count of all dying Robbins?
nor once didst thou relent thy staunch
culling of those joyful innocent sins.
Of all that I may draw thus now,
of life this end, of love this bow.
May thou live until the end of days,
I pray thou endure forever my grace.
To the angel of reaping that stares at me now
and the raven that stalks on its shoulder,
“I wish not to live on, if thou could know how
judge I do not for thy gaze growing colder”
Here! takest my limbs, takest my prison, even the flesh of my brow
but leavest my heart, and too my soul, for myself and my love to grow older.
Asketh do providence, O stand but a moment, not an eternal eon allow
for now I beseech it to let me do stay, my arms are longing to hold her!
O parting has dawned, with so much unsaid, and time has taken a vow
so I closeth my eyes, hoping for hope, that a passing wind shall have told her.