You are an atypical lass,
A glory that I can’t possess.
That is why I can’t fall in love,
Despite all that I may profess.

How is it that my love is stymied
Because you are flawed perfection?
I have always loved you. Without
You my life has no direction.

I can ne’er offer another
What rightfully belongs to you,
Since my heart and mind and soul have
Vowed to thy mem’ry to be true.

You were sweet and tender and pure;
I was cynical and jaded.
Never has such innocence been
So happily masqueraded

As it was with thy olive skin
And thy flowing raven tresses.
‘You made me happier than I’d
Ever been,’ my soul confesses.

If I found offense in one so
Virtuous, intelligent, and
Strong-willed who could motivate me
And deal with my temper, my hand

Can never tamed be. For if I
Could never happiness maintain
Whilst I was with you, I have no
Delusions of true love again.

I’m sorry for the hurt I caused
With my poisoned stings and black barbs.
I find it is fitting that in
Despair my conscience itself garbs.

Of thy criticisms I’m not
Worthy. Your scorn I can’t refuse.
I would fain let you scourge my soul,
If that meant that I wouldn’t lose

What I know that I can never
Have because you’ve long since parted,
And I have only myself to
Curse that I am broken hearted.

They say that the grass is greener
On the other side of the hill,
But I’ve found the landscape barren,
Since you’re not here to me fulfill.

Mirages remind me of you,
And even they will not accost
This sinful soul. I now value
You, now that I know what I’ve lost.