| Lament of a Lover Tis but nobler men than I relinquish their hold on technology enraptured in the wonders of science and all it contains. Bytes and Megs hath no meaning in my humble backward mind. I forsee the future delving into satanic behavior and rooms filled with insinuations and hear vulgarity poure from the mouthes of babes. Alas I cannot control my inquisition and hath held a keen ear to the rambling of fools such as coon and others. I swore on the Kings name I shant fall to such trickery and shame but twas my downfall and my Gwenivere appeared amid the lost souls and my heart swelled as the mist parted reveiling her beauty. Now forever locked in my memoury her form benefits my vision and haunts in dreams. A pedestal awaits her statuesque figure and my own caress. My brow heavy in thought rambled and reflected off the empty walls of my mind as her emerald eyes drew me in. Her locks the colour of fire grasped me thou I struggled not in their bonds. A mischievous twinkle glowed and a smile appeared behind her luscious lips. Mesmerized I felt the trap of flesh spring shut and I was forever engulfed in her grasp. She but a child pulled at my conscience and I willingly followed along the path of no return. My footprints covered by jealousy of my own want and desires. Expedience followed and ruled my destiny. I succum to her wit and fall begging akin to a starving peasant at her feet and await the guillotine of absence to favor her in a lost and forgotten world. The cobblestones of time thereafter ever silent of her footsteps floating over my lost and forgotten soul. Ah but a knight in shining armor I wish I be and capture her spirit to set it free among the heavens with other angels of her calibre. My sword of passion would be once more unsheathed and slash the bonds of loneliness. Alas I be of lesser desire and unworthy of her gaze. Merlins globe of crystal reveils me unlit in the shadows and I fear the corners of the earth will become rounded before my heart dwells with hers and my dust long settled as fodder for the living. My tears dampen the memory but it fails to fade and I hold it close to my bosom in hope of someday. Sir Thomas of Shaker Flats..... � 2002 T Lovett |