A Curse

Bewitched of ancient spell

Tis not my intention your world to dwell

To haunt you

To linger on

When you ask me gone

 

Troubled by a life too hard

Like a player from the Bard

To torture myself 

Treading forwards on the boards 

Ever near your silent swords

 

Feeling something faraway

Dreaming each and everyday

To be felt

To grasp at hope

Permission granted to elope 

 

Knowing I should let you be

Knowing it is all you ask of me

Trying to leave

Fixed to the floor

Desparately reaching just once more

 

Longing for your wish to grant

Aching soul sacrosanct 

Nothing more

Nothing gained

Another day the curse has shamed