A Prisoner of Love

A moment, a minute, a lifetime spent

In pursuit of a love, a misty sillohuette

A whisper from the past, a ghost of a girl

Elusive, lovely, distant yet close

A cherry blossom, a lily, a lotus,a rose

A blackbird singing in the dead of night

An owl flying by, silent in flight

Beauty taken, in mortal form personified

Love shaped, in endless denial

To love was to live, yet in bottomless grief

Near was far, a distant everstar

She, an ideal, a knight's holy war

To hold, to cherish, the most desired cause

As in Arthur his kingdom, to lancelot, his beloved Camelot

But none possessed the power to cleave the stone from her heart

And the one who did, cursed his lot

For when he might have acted, he stood by and watched

The ruination of her love, the pain of her heart

For you see, he spurned all that was love

Instead he chose to mock the gods above

Fate pitied him and gave him what he so hastily turned

Away from, yet, a blessing or a curse?

For love was what he sought, yet not what he deserved

Decades spent in darkness and hurt

The one he spurned became the reason for his existence

Her voice, music, her touch, ambrosia.

Yet from the dark prison to which he was sentenced

It came to him like a half remembered dream.

Maybe the Gods pitied him, maybe they did not

The power fo free him, the love that he sought

Was given to her, to free or to let rot

Tis' tale has an ending, for better or worse

But not mine to tell, for i, i am a prisoner

A prisoner of love.