To the Tyrant Tigress

A poetic appeal to the callous comrade to spare the senses of the lover.

Stab me still, like a stalker—why?
A thousand times I earlier die.

Refuse me glance—why?
Rob me moments nigh.

Drown me in a flood of tears—why?
Blinded my sight in your sigh.

Forsake me in your dreams—why?
Not once you appear in my eye.

Part from your victim forever—why?
Leave this refugee in the land dry.

Punish me with your absence—why?
Strike or push from cliff high.

Haunt me like a dreaded ghost—why?
The kite of hope you falsely fly.

Poach me like a Tigress—why?
Scorn me with words wry.

Tease me with your smile—why?
Show mercy to one in state-die.

Is parting, hey Tyrant,
Your most generous gift?
Surely, Death be lighter
Than this cold verdict.

Hey callous comrade!

Steal my sleep,
Snatch my peace,
Swell my wounds,
Spare my senses.

Leave me alone
To scribble my madness.
Free me, I beg,
To celebrate my anguish.

Dec 3 2019. Edit March 2024