The White Lady's LamentA Poem by Elizabeth
You turn from me toward the Paths of the Dead.
Now pass all my hopes into darkness.
You leave me so little, not even a glance,
only your pity and kindness,
the touch of your lips upon my hand,
the cup that you pressed them to freely
And I, shieldmaiden, the king=s own sister-daughter
am somehow unworthy of thee.
What secret, what mystery calls you away
down the path you will not let me follow?
I would have ridden that road would you have had me
and dared the dead to part us.
How is it you are not meant for me?
Your eyes clear grey, so like mine.
Long years you have spent in wandering the world,
long years have I waited for freedom.
Yet you turn me away, speaking only of duty
and I fear I shall ever be waiting.
Now from the east stretches the shadow;
is this the darkness that clutches my heart?
That whispers leave hope behind
and take up the sword, ride out
to what fate will bring thee..
For whatever comes, shadow or light,
you will ever be lost to me.
© 2008 ElizabethReviews
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3 Reviews Added on February 7, 2008 AuthorElizabethOHAboutI am a graduate student in Ohio working towards a master's degree in English, with a focus on critical theory and African and Middle Eastern Literature. I write poetry when I feel inspired, so it is k.. more..Writing
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