Hung In the Balance
My faith in you is naturally a dream
An everlasting peep at what I have,
It cannot be divine, yet is supreme
My finding you compares with this extreme.
Perfection is not granted for my touch
For is it not performed for God alone,
That loving you cannot be done as such
But giving it supports you like a crutch.
If love were easy, could it ever lose,
The understanding gained, if it were lost
Without the one I love I have to choose
Between unhappiness or this here noose.
Copyright © Titus Llewellyn | Year Posted 2007
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