An Excerpt from "The Writ" by Paul Gray
©Copyright 2012 by Paul Gray. All rights reserved

This love which yet I hold for thee
Dwells in my heart alone
While all that you professed for me
Has long regressed and gone

Be not constrained as cursed nor blessed
True love one can't release
Nor long that heart's relief be found
If e're one's love doth cease

By still of night as long as life
Dwell in my feeble form
My love for thee with all its night
Will keep me safe and warm