The chance of an accord may lay to rest In thirty days’ repose; thou can’t accept A solitary way for thee to test- A one man’s loyalty, as thou didst wept. Thy liberty hath boundary in death As petals swoon’d upon declining throne Thyself dethron’d by others lustful breath? As time runs out of prime for such atone. But if the man thou love'st returns with crown Thy joyous day doth stay inside of thee, It is thy fault; thyself in long black gown? Thou shouldst not think of things thou cannot see.
Don’t ever listen to the words of guilt, It might destroy all things that thou hast built.