O Many Men
O many men
O, How many men may weep for me?
In my waking sleep life is given to thee.
For in sleep I dream and thine hand touches me,
In thine eyes I see only death and misery.
You can only speak in thine heart to me;
Sing, O sing, of your tale of death and misery.
Can your eyes see darkness will possess thee?
Or is this truth only revealed within me?
Stay here within this forsaken Hell with me.
Do not stray or give thought to flee,
Else the rough winds will surely break me,
And in my sleep no life will endure with thee.
O how many men will weep for me?
For in my waking sleep I will dream of thee.
Comments on this poem/writing:
|~Debra Anne (126.96.36.199) -- Tuesday, April 20 2004, 09:27 pm|
Princess, Once again you find a way to say the words I keep to myself. "O how many men will weep for you?" I know of at least three. ~Debra Anne
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