Godess of Woe

She that looks on storms and is never turned. 
To this marvelous wonder whipped and frayed. 
That you are the privilege of your time. 
My eyes be damned but glorious made.

And from my face she turns mine enemies,
Love is a boon, then might I not say so,
But things removed that hidden in you lay still,
And for those riches, where is my deserving?

I have gone here and there,
Their images I loved and I view them in you,
Neither with inward worth, nor outward fair,
So her I lose through my unkind abuse.

And weep of fresh loves long since cancelled,
That due to you I deserve alone.

And burry them deeply in my heart,

lock and key, earth and stone. 

Author's Note