A desprate love poem with ataste of old school "olde English"

"Captive Soul"
By L-M Owens


Of thou soul thee speak,
Deep into mine I let thee peek.

Mine own soul longest for thee,
Of this thee knowest it be.

Thine very self hast been etched into mine heart,
and thou hast held mine soul from the vey start.

Mine desires are real.
Alas, I knowest not how thee feel.

Art I just a play thing?
a vessel of pleasure to thee I bring?

Have thou played mine heart in jest?
I beseach thee put mine fears to rest.

If thou feelings for me art true
I knowest thee will come through.

©8-31-07