This piece is based off the painting of the same name by George Frederic Watts, depicting a child trying to block death so that he may not enter the House of Love.
I am aware I do not belong here,
I am aware of my intrusion.
How I wish I could walk with the soul of one
who would be welcomed in such a place.
It is unfortunate for the both of us,
but I must enter my child.
My heavenly duty shall overpower your passion,
the soul within must be consumed,
lest you curse them to an empty death.
I wish the passion of man were finite,
so that my work would be less cumbersome.
Please God, I beg of you,
take away your relentless servant.
The house of love is no place
for such tragedy.
Our roses wilt, our hearts frozen still,
please, grant us this divine exception.
Our mother deserves life, and if she is slain,
what love will there be for her children?
Her passion, her soul
is the very incarnation of the love of man,
if her heart ceases to beat, you, our heavenly father,
condemn us to a cold, bitter existence.
I beg of you, send your servant away.
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My Poems
PoetryEvery now and then (usually by accident) I write a poem. Any poems I produce that I still consider pleasing after a few weeks will end up here.