Consigned
Consigned I am to live without your love
To grave to go without its sweetest taste
On earth to stay and never fly above
I hope my end will come with wanton haste
What use have I for life without your smile
For body that’s unravished by your hands
What use is there to live but for a while
When I count unkissed days as grains of sand
What can I hope for in my lonely bed?
When cold am I, unwrapped in heaven’s arm
Your love was once a feast on which I fed
Your promises were charms that kept from harm
But tell me, love, are you consigned to be
without the comfort of my soothing breast?
When you are weary, tell me, will you see
a woman who can grant your each request?
Consigned are you to life without my eyes
that bore for you affection in their gaze?
Consigned are you to live with other’s lies
or here to thrive and live with lover’s praise?
Consigned am I to live without you here
I smile for in my heart I know it's true
When making love, you’ll "see" me standing there
And wish that it were me in bed with you
Eileen Manassian
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