Beyond

Fair faces launched at least a thousand ships
And chained the heart of many-a warrior king;
This treasured fire braved wastes and walls and whips
To gain the sole possession of one ring.
How many hearts are welded to a dream
Of ever-after happiness and bliss,
To merely grasp instead handfuls of steam
As turtle-doves expire with-a serpent’s hiss?
Four-letter word, with such a checkered past:
Why do all youths fall victim to your flame,
When all can see how rarely it will last
And aging suitors hang their heads in shame?

I early came to know the lonesome curse--
A heart cut off from free, unfettered joy--
The lauded idyll of the poet’s verse,
Eluding every hopeful, heartsick boy.
My mind and soul cried from an empty well
Their call to mate with some ideal I’d lost
Somewhere between bright heaven and dark hell,
Between Passover’s pains and Pentecost.
For many passions throngs have dared to die
Rather than lose the loves for which they fought;
But who would seek a sinner sick as I,
Who only could by royal blood be bought?

Was I--O truly?--meant for love beyond
All passions those on earth might undertake?
Do best affections here, reflect the bond
Eternity itself will never break?
Beyond the smold’ring ash, beyond the death,
Beyond the wasting, wanting, weary earth...
Beyond the ever-after war for breath,
Is there, indeed, what all lost loves are worth?

MNA
2/15/15