Loved Slavery

I am not forced to look upon your face;
I am not whipped to say your beauty’s rare;
No villain has en-chained me to this place,
Nor machinations base made me to stare.
I freely owe my slavery to me,
And thought I’m slave, it’s all unconsciously.
My judgment’s made him tyrant of my will,
My will has made him master of mine eyes,
My eyes, with their clamped purpose, pull me still
To look, to see, to gaze, and feel them wise.
Up-lift’ to my great fate, I fate me more
To praise your spirit’s face while I adore,
Which while shall last as long as I am free
To tyrant be of my loved slavery!

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s