CAPTIVE OF GRIEF

Hunted to dungeon, crushed down, and forgot,
I watch the pathway of pale shining light there,
Crawling the wall from the pane to cheek spot,
Drawn like a ribbon, so slender and fine there.

With it, in cold and in clammy half dark,
Fate has decreed I shall merge and be taken;
Still my gaze follows the narrow drawn spark,
Reaching for light — I am shattered and shaken…

Bound are my hands, they are worn into blood,
Feet are ground down on the merciless flooring,
Raising my heavy arched brow as I could,
Thus I receive all her kisses, unfearing.