A Knight's Sorrow

October 11, 2013

Supplicate

Filed under: Poetry — Harlequinn @ 2:02 pm
Tags: , , , ,

Words mean little to those I’ve hurt.
Or of this guilt within my veins,
That claws my chest through blacken heart,
And plays upon my maddened brain.

I could weep, or beg, or cry like babe,
Or fall upon my sword of shame.
I could walk upon this sun cursed earth,
Till my feet are bloodied pain.

But even with those tasks atone,
Naught quenched your sorrows be.
With my broken arms and fragile soul,
I plead upon your forgiveness please.

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