Myne heart Poached

A face I met of your’s and all knavery is hid,

Washed by infamous veils which seem as light,

From o’re thine heart and veins across thy mind,

Cast bound to choke what in that space, doth lie trite.

For quench that within that will lie wounded,

As red water tainted thou doth swallow,

To fill such empty and broken symmetry,

Thy heart hath rotted till black and hollow.

For now thy veins pinched by ones who enforce,

Shall throw to thy ground from presence divorce.

The deed last been done, all sinues be filled,

The fire now be used for light, or th’art killed.

Yet when this power is left lingering to doubt,

From lake, from a pale, so savagely put out.

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