How?

How can I let my emotions

Come back into play

When they have destroyed me

At every twist and turn?

My must my heart beat

To the sound of a sweet voice?

This heart that hath been twain

More than thrice mends itself

Once more at every tone of

Her voice. How can a man

Who has dealt deadly blows to

Himself cradle another?

I rue my heart!

The strife, the pain, the affliction,

The misery and the scars,

All set upon me like a

Thousand plaques that my

Own heart has born against me.

Yet this heart of mine

Burns like the Sahara once

More for the heart of a princess.

Shall it twain itself again?

Must I bear the bodkin that

Love slits my neck with?

How I desire to turn the steel

Of such bodkin against 

This heart of mine and

Cease its mindless barrage.

Yet my soul overrules such

Betrayal, that I might not 

Sin against God. So now

Must I live pressed against

This blade? My Father, I beseech

You! Clot this blood of mine

That I might not bleed out

And lose all hope.