There is a love shift supervening, beside your closest margins.
In the very dearth you stroll upon,
the dross of air you breathe.
The blithe form you move in and out of.
The perception and delusions, penetrating through rough textures of truth.
Love moves its way through seemingly impassable force and bargains its way…
Into your eyes.
For the light of your eyes, will penetrate the mist of illusions…
Earth raised up her head
From the darkness dread and drear,
Her light fled,
And her locks covered with grey despair.
‘Prisoned on watery shore,
Starry jealousy does keep my den
Cold and hoar;
I hear the father of the ancient men.
‘Selfish father of men!
Cruel, jealous, selfish fear!
Chained in night,
The virgins of youth and morning bear.
‘Does spring hide its joy,
When buds and blossoms grow?
Does the sower
Sow by night,
Or the ploughman in darkness plough?
‘Break this heavy chain,
That does freeze my bones around!
That free love with bondage bound.’
~ W. Blake
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