Milady
By Steve
- 550 reads
milady,
i bow down to thee,
thou art made of such stuff
as warriors are made of, thine persian blood
blackens with the velocity of angels,
have pity on me,
milady, do not strike me dead,
remember, thou art not invincible.
wherefore am I thus serfed to thee?
release me from this spell,
turn the moment from one of tragic consequence
to one of beauty and truth.
how have i betrayed thee? have i not
kept true,
thought of thee as ample fruit
for thought,
fed thee
when thou were starving oneself to death
out of morals?
do not say, tis a monstrocity.
take all thine arms and fight madly
deftly and true to the art,
so finely made are thee.
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Comments
i bend upoon my pliant knee
i bend upoon my pliant knee
and offer the compliment of my unleavened breast more comely than a palfrey's gazookus
who has unbraided my hair and swung upon my midnight tresses?
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