The days are short, nights are long

I know your heart has swept away,

all desire for my passion once felt,

and my feet are full of clay

Who am I and who are you

drifting like ships in the night?

keeping an image to please others,

full of sound and fury, by candlelight

Alone, like Keats under the stars

an enchanting lily once was mine,

now the nights are cold with silent tears,

I am a poet running out of time

She was a beauty I once kissed

a scented garden in her face,

tho I still spend time with her,

my desire is rejected, I drift in space

I recall the passion, her fire that once,

kissed the boundaries of my soul,

nothing I do or say now,

echoes the beauty that I know

O we Poets see much pain

perhaps our verses are better too?

still I would burn all my poems,

to have your desire return to you