The sadness in her eyes breaks me, Willing me to reach across the breach of hurt; To hold her hand and tell her it was all a dream.
The painful lustre in her eyes, As they glistened in the candle light that night Would draw me into granting a reprieve that is not mine.
She seeks a place to leave her wish. Where, at the feet of a gentle wizened priest, She can be relieved of a flagrant breach, a love once spurned.
There is no forgiveness I can give; No blessings in my hand that can yield respite; No libation that can appease my blithely shattered heart.
The sadness in her eyes draws me But I can only stare, nonplussed. Benumbed by my pain that still bleeds red.