Plead with sorrow,despise my eyes,
break the arrow, then the bow,and if
you must,the hand that drew;
but expect not my lips to chaffer lies !
When I can look at brow and twig,
and see the light dance within;
when I can find; beneath their odious
sheets; the closeted soul of man,
when I can stand denuded; in this
affliction called life; and still find
the furnance in my breast;still find
the upward curve of my lips;
then surely you can...graciously..
accept this love,I give.