The Yielding Key


The door unto my heart is locked.

O woeful lock, where is thy key?

Thou tauntst me, enigmatic fiend:

Thy nature is a mystery.


One day when thou are sleeping well,

or weak or faint, not mine the choice,

I will take thou, use a spell

and turn thou, key; I shall rejoice.


I do not heed what people say

that thou unyielding shall not turn

for what yields to me that I may

unlock the luxuries that brightly burn?


And furthermore which keys hath choice?

The people are all fools.

I, desperate, wanting to rejoice,

Shall gaze at my own jewels.

The End

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