What King Forsakes the Ruling of His Heart
What king forsakes the ruling of his heart
To bow before a queen of cruel sting
Who takes but six sharp bites and then departs
When west wind and sun play in brutal spring—
Least of all the high king of Arctic gold
Who will call all at last to his domain;
Why fiercely kiss disloyal marigold
As if silk petals could console the pain
Or striped carnations' sweet and satin blade—
Sweet when they cover wide, denying eyes
But bitter as they heave through breath afraid
Bitter pain with miscoloured iris lies—
What God brings destruction to his own love
Love dishonest and never spoken of?
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