Roundelay

What
Is this moment here, in time,
How
Is it that we’ve come this way?
Where
Is the conscience of the queen,
Why
Do I hear a roundelay?

Light
As the morning, clear and true,
Sharp
As the pangs of love at bay,
Red
As the blood that pounds my ears,
Why
Do I hear a roundelay?

There
In an office, block and grid,
Dreams
Of a whole-life, far away,
Eyes
Of the hope of love gone right –
Why
Do I hear a roundelay?

What
Is this feeling that I feel?
Lost
In eternity, astray,
You
On the edge of guiltlessness,
Why
Do I hear a roundelay?

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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