I direct these words to my queenly love,
In hopes my love to you I prove.
I send these words while I am shortly unwitheld
From the cage that bounds me; my soul is celled.
Day and Night my heart hangs low,
Exposing my weaknesses, braced for a blow.
For I’ve dwelt here so long, I’ve grown to expect it.
My life, so arduous, has been cast to the pit.
It once wasn’t like this, as I’m sure you know;
I was happy, saely, ten boats could I row.
But with the waxing and waning of every season,
I, too, have waxed, but with Wane I now reason.
I mask my sorrow with hugs and kisses,
With silly words, prayers and wishes.
But all in all, it reduces to rubble,
And down I come, humbly I crumble.
I ask for forgiveness, whatever you can give me,
And a place in your heart for when I return from Satan’s Tyranny.
For the kingdom of hell, though gently, has taken me
Captive, and now I must wait for myself to be free.
Worry not my love, for I’ll ascend like a dove,
And then to you my love I’ll prove.
My passion for you will be ten times swelled,
And soon, no longer will my soul be celled.