He is passion, etched desire,
Unacquainted with a sun or moon
Familiar with the pale fire
That is often gone too soon
A day without my love in arms
Is waiting for the sun’s expansion
That’s taking prospects of dissatisfaction
With a blistering compassion
Turning all to gentle seas.
Tumultuous shores now seized
By powers grand, above my own
The power that’s to all, unknown
Yet now I ask, my sun
Why are you late?
Have you only just begun
Or have you not the strength to permeate
Through time and space, and shun
This darkened pit of loneliness
This absence of His holiness
And release me from unconquered lands
That shackled both these sinful hands?
Am I to tread among my own
Take for a friend the unknown
Or must I make incensed offerings
To heaven’s unlawful kings?
I am a slave to my own mind, not a slave to you
A slave to my design, not the overarching blue
A slave I am and may remain until my love, anew
Lays me down on those dewy banks of Acheron
And again, departs too soon