Prisoner of Passion
Prisoner of Passion.
Take my bread and take my home,
Shred my flesh from every bone,
None could kill or crush with stone,
This pounding heart that loves thee.
Brand me slave and shave my head,
On a chain should I be led,
Make me wish that I were dead,
And still this heart would love thee.
May the world turn cold and mean,
Should I grow pale and lean,
I would always have my dream,
For this heart truly loves thee.
Of my love I’ve lost control,
For now it rules my very soul,
Unto itself it is a whole,
Oh, how this heart does love thee.
Though by now you’ve made your choice,
And mine was just a passing voice,
I do detect my eyes are moist,
In vain I’ll always love thee.
--oOo--
Copyright © Les Pick | Year Posted 2022
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