Impure And Guilty Was I, And Punished So Poem by Daegal

Tied upon a thickened rope,
Tarred and entwined fast,
Just out of reach from subtle hands,
And breaths of sweet repast.
Tugging hard and twisting wild,
My tainted eyes on fire,
Burning thick with passion’s zeal,
As on a funeral pyre.

The mist of moistened streamèd song,
Sang out across my eyes,
And when the rope did fray and break,
I soared into the skies.
Searching fast among the clouds,
I saw her lying there,
Daring not to enter then,
I read her captive stare.

A scene dissent had fostered quick,
Which brought new shrieks a-fresh,
For in those eyes blazed love no more,
For me and my marred flesh.
Within her chambered room alone,
She lay among her thought,
“O misery, escort me out, ”
My design led me distraught.

Returning to my death-made post,
I tied myself again,
This time tighter, ‘mong the bones,
Which anguish did attain.
Bleeding filtered cries once more,
Made pure by blazing stone,
I curled myself into a ball,
And slept in fire alone.

End.