In Eros’ Service – the mender

Cast betwixt two drifts of wind my sorry soul did drown,
torn between two lover’s tides, in confluence, pulled me down
beneath these waves of temporal flux, be cast to love’s deep purpose,
where only I can pay the debt, one hundred years be tied to service.

In penance to all breaking hearts that I may mend their shattered hopes,
forever ‘neath the northern star, forever pulling frozen ropes.

No reference to horizon made that I my debt delay,
held beyond sweet morning’s dawn, denied each glimpse of day.

Cast I wreck from havoc to belay a pardon’s sweet remorse
that these poor souls adrift here, by me, return their course.

So to love or death they go with fractured hearts amend,
yet of the shards here left behind unto my selfish purpose lend
a hope that love may still await when placed within my own,
that penanced years of servitude may build a heart, so grown.

Yet still the seas of love do crash, deliver me their broken hopes,
as time stands still beneath this pole, these frozen hands on frozen ropes.

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Filed under Poetry, True Love

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