I Fled from Thee (Response to Sir Thomas Wyatt’s “They Flee from Me”)

I fled from thee, though sometime thee I sought

In thy cold chamber, my humility surrendered.

I fled to thee in lustful moments of distraught

Behavior, I wish I did not remember

The time I placed myself under thy control,

And made myself vulnerable

To thee, my head spins with sickness knowing

What I have done, my nightgown flowing

From my bare shoulders, I shiver

In the cold darkness

How did it come down to this?

Many a time I have asked this question

To my swirling conscious, my divine possession

And have decided on the perfect conclusion:

Desperate, I was, to love and be loved,

To feel like I had someone,

I was captivated by delusion’s dreadful spell,

And now, I would rather be alone.

Dear heart, what did thee expect?

I have never loved thee

I loved my lust instead,

For thou art too kind for me. I crept

Along the winding hallways endlessly

To find something, anything

To pretend to love

And call my Turtle Dove,

And there, thou was sent from above,

But now, I know that I deserve

To fulfill my own happiness and reserve

My love for someone other than thee.

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