[Dandeli]

I pale to you, o' one of ocean blue, 

Comely, measured, polished, yet how I rue,

Unlike your heart welcoming mine shirks many in it's slew,

Radiant yet unbecoming; I am a darker shade of blue,

These thoughts so easily befouled, fell to taint,

This doubt cascades down, down, deeper,

So does this agony fail to meet her,

This dull, greyed face.

  

  

There crows the hen,

Do I befit the hymn of the heart you sang back then?

This throat smoulders with fire, it scorches deep and leaves a mark,

But perhaps the bloodied phlegm is tailor-made, a match for a traitorous heart,

You would have waged war with world's whims, weathered storm aloud,

For your cherished, precious other; they who is owed all your sound,

And yet I sever these ties so callously, tearing back the knot,

   

 

Slipping through fingers             

              

                                  as though a   

  

          feather-light weight,

  

easily forgot.                              

  

 

Might it be I wear the clothes,

Of someone I am not?

 

I shall go to sleep,                           

 

                       Yet forget it all I shall not.