Drawing from the Wellspring

Drawing from the Wellspring

I was not sick of any fear from here.
Then should I ride, as though mounted on the wind?
And therefore I was enforced to seek anew.
Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is dear.

Commanded by the motion of your eyes
but that you shall shine more bright in these contents,
is more than my oppressed defence can bide?
To this false plague are they now transferred.

My soul does tell my body that he may,
but no such roses see I in her cheeks.
Tired with all these, from these would I be gone,
that you yourself may your privilege lay.

Who leaves unswayed the likeness of a man.
The bloody spur cannot provoke him on.
It's not as though I think I can,
burn tarnished pages on which I'm drawn.

Author's Note

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

I'm glad you are drawing from the well spring and writing on the tarnished pages then to burn them. Bravo