The Daughter Of The Sire Poem by Adam Lally

You dream of the daughter of the sire
is it hope or is it desire?
Will she cast you into the pit afire
where only the fools who fall too
quickly lay in lover's wire?

Her eyes play you like a lyre
is it libido or is it latria?
Will she send you into the gyre
when you are lost at sea
within the vision of the scryer?

How she irks you with ire
is it instinct or is it higher?
Will she leave you as a pariah
when piercing the shivered skin
in the wounds of flesh's mire?

How her little sails aspire
is it destiny or is it peripeteia?
Is your path ahead wholly dire
where the road bends narrow
beneath the whispers of the choir?

How she diminishes the internal crier
does she differ from the current or prior?
And now as your longing grows shyer
you ponder the daughter of the sire
if she amounts to that kiss of fire