Poems by Themis

Spell

My dear, don't ever talk like this:

Is it not time to understand

That in this poor queer world our bliss

Is not within our hand?

Why should we torture so our heart,

Repeating endlessly the spell,

When all its magic, all its art,

Opens a deeper hell?

Unweave the incantation's power

 Before its fire touch the brain,

Be still within the starlit hour,

And let Truth heal our pain.

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