Poetry

Questionable love

By 18th June 2010December 9th, 2019No Comments

What then do you ask of me?
In this lonely life of love
Through mine eyes you cannot see
Nor cry tears to God above.

Oh what of me do you ask?
In infertile, barren dust
Each seed of my love you task
Not of love, but more of lust.

What was it you asked of me?
Beneath this tormented soul
Oh why then, could you not see?
My own love for you was whole.

Oh why did you tell me lies?
Of affairs and sordid love
For all was plain in your eyes
Noted by my God above.

Will you ever think of me?
When they lay me down to rest
Not again this face you’ll see
Nor again my love you’ll test.

Leslie de la Haye

Author Leslie de la Haye

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