English Poetry



She gave me a chalice
Of wine, sweet and red;
Asked me to rest
And the stress to shed…

Her voice was soothing,
Her eyes sincere;
Hair black as night,
Her charm was clear…

A princess she was,
A noble child;
Beauty was her gift,
One, dare I say, not so mild…

My heart raced the wind
Like a mare towards the sunset;
Intoxicated immediately
The minute our eyes had met….

With a trembling hand
The first sip I took,
Gushing down my guts,
Instantly my being it shook…

I lay on the divan
Awake yet numb to the senses;
I tried to fight
But I had lost my defenses…

I lost the battle
Overtaken by weakness;
Seduced by a temptress
Murdered by her sweetness…

Too late I knew
I had trusted a liar;
To trick, deceive,
And to conspire…

I could no longer distinguish
Fact from fiction;
Yet was solely aware
Of my mind’s conviction…

Will I ever know?
Where does the truth dwell?
I cannot be certain,
I cannot tell…

The longer I wait,
The harder it gets;
I am disappointed,
Full of regrets…

I have been poisoned
With my heart’s desire;
Now I shall forever rest
In an eternal fire…

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