AtLast_[07]

>> Apollogia <<

From these arms She fled of life's bouquet to floral wreath, As Daphne, wood. Apollo wed Adorned of laurel grief Transubstantiate of good, Capriceof gods upon this lowly race, Tho game, misunderstood.

My unrelenting grasp, Of leaves supplanting tresses Lofts too late those lovely stems, Hollow of caresses. Flesh not spawn of sin of Zeus Nor tainted breath of Boreas, Man in masteries useless Immortal currents ceaseless

Punctured heart, Gold arrow claimed, Trimmed in dulled, yet comely, branches Leadened missile maimed. Her warmth displaced of love's embrace, Attachment in eternity, I, Frigid, Oaken, Pine of her, Whose mistletoe Once garnished me.