Fränz Müller

Un Reve de Misère

Kissed while dreaming, I lay broken

Slave to the five words I have spoken:

Lust, deceit, hate, faith and lies.

The sacred vow that now, in eyes

Brimming with tears, reflects back

Your shattered trust, in mourning black

To wretched source, the foul deceiver:

A one-time lover, now the griever!

Thinking of that line I doth spake

Yearning that which I did break

Each, every night in fitful sleep

I face the music and I, too weep

Such a fate is fit and just

These tortured tears in slumber’s dust

But I do wonder…Misery:

Does she ever weep for me?