can love be mine?  can trepidations lounge,
where darkness built its empty monolith?
i own all of nothing tears bound,
yet no fragrant ash of love to sift

among the tired celebrants of whimsy
that fueled the consumptive flame's unrest,
among the faltered warriors of reason,
whose fire burned on unsuccessful tests.

can i love her, who entered, eyes averted,
in meek demeanor to my courage tied?
or her, whose purple heart remains alerted
to the intrigue of my nocturnal side?

the light dims days and, blinded, i moan
my wonder to the brimming universe -
can i be love of love, the ancient stone
upon the grave of my eternal curse?

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