When heart imposes bitter blight
Upon mind, in which a maddened flight
Takes refuge from my self bereft
Of promise. Promises broken, unkept,
Made more austere by forbidden night.

This is the last, for slain unknownst
Concealed, not by a regal ghost,
But by One whose words did draw me near
And the patron whose unholy fear
Of dishonor, did dishonor most.

Warning came, but went unheeded
Passion from ambition was seeded
Duty by weakness was aroused
And with filial censure did passion douse
And from my garden, roots of strength were weeded.

Bewildering rifts like a mirror crack'd
While mortality becomes embracing fact,
And him whom I loved, I must now despise
And deceive, through calculating eyes
Of those who in filial love do lack.

Running water, so cold, so deep,
Will numb me, carry me that I may sleep
Far away on a distant shore
Where confused dreams torture nevermore,
And nevermore my heart will weep.

Jenn Eagen
July, 1998