Apóstasi

Memories, aged before their time. I made one such with you. Limbs entwined like trees Embracing branches, Swaying together in the breeze.
Anathema began with sacrament. Wild thorns from eden sprung. Always I reach out for you, Yet you shrink: withering before my touch.
Must I perish now? Yesterday I would have chosen thus.
Heralded by silence, and naught else Eros smote me greatly. Arm bent back; string released. Right between my breasts That feathered shaft stuck fast.
Would that his aim had not been true, And I was spared this lonely fate. If I could but trade an arrow for a scythe Thanatos would have had a kinder touch. So let all love be damned.
Flee no more from me, my love. Order me instead away. Robbed and penniless though I am I would obey.
Yet though I be in exile Or in eden, I will wait. Under starless heavens for a day that will never come.