A Short Poem for Beleg and Turin
For Beleg and Turin
Dark and blindness tore dear ones apart
Torment and chains do veil one’s heart
In feverish dream, blood miss-spilt
Lifelong am I destined to bore the grief
I do not beseech forgiveness, my friend
For no cure can redeem such loss
I had with these very hands, quenched
that laughter that once rang though woods afar
Your lilting spirit eased all shades
Heathen warbled upon your light gait
In the woods nigh Teiglin you held my gaze
Same so when your strong frame withered ‘neath the blade
Oh, how I curse my fate
没有miss-spilt这个词，但是管他呢又不是英语作文