Metaphysical Chronicle

As sure as the ship that sets its sail;
That motions to the sea,
So unfolds the love I hold
On a journey to decree.

No clear or certain path is pledged;
Known wholly by the crew
Who face lashes of torment, tidings of rein
These storms my heart feels too.

Like the harsh of clime that halts the ship
My passion is thus deterred;
For the one who is the State of mine heart
Has another as such preferred.

Through terms of squall the ship remains
On a course ne'er to abate;
The sail stays strong, she's sailing on
Pushed by the hand of Fate.

As boldly as the ship sails through,
My love survives to grow
Just as the bloom which from the bud
Upon a blossom show.

She doth not know this complete love,
Or this voyage by the sea;
But the sweetest sound from the sweetest lips
Could leave my soul in agony.

Alone with muse, adrift, astray
Upon a tainted ocean;
With one sign from the sultry mask
She leaves no love nor notion.

This bless?d gift, I cannot think
Of owning nought but thee;
'Til fast we fly o'er the sphere
To set our one soul free.

As quickly as horizon rears
I view the glittering eyes;
No storm nor blasted churlish hand
Quells the smile on my hearts prize.

Of strange solitude, the story tells and
Of a passage true and long;
I wait to catch the spoken note
Dulcet as an angel's song.

She is the fields of Elysium,
My kingdom I decree;
She lays her soft seraphic hand
Upon the lifeless sea.

The lazy waves that once did blast
Lie still in placid rest;
The nearing shape I now see breathe
From autumnal red rose breast.

I leave to bless my love on she,
And all my life rests 'til
Time and Fate together thus
Grant my life my will.