The sadness in her eyes breaks me,
Willing me to reach across the breach of hurt;
To hold her hand and tell her it was all a dream.
The painful lustre in her eyes,
As they glistened in the candle light that night
Would draw me into granting a reprieve that is not mine.
She seeks a place to leave her wish.
Where, at the feet of a gentle wizened priest,
She can be relieved of a flagrant breach, a love once spurned.
There is no forgiveness I can give;
No blessings in my hand that can yield respite;
No libation that can appease my blithely shattered heart.
The sadness in her eyes draws me
But I can only stare, nonplussed.
Benumbed by my pain that still bleeds red.