O’ Maiden of a quiet, mournful, repose

O’ Maiden of a quiet, mournful, repose
Wasn’t it not love at beauty’s doze
That your sweet dark eyes spoke
Of this emanated dew ragged rose.
Wasn’t it a boy in manlier clothes?
Who with arms of steel, still cleaves.
Glowering on your milk white skin,
For love unwilling in willing, sin.
Or was it for a serpents coiling heart
That relentless passion born of a darker art
Or were you just yearning a newer embrace
To glean the stardust from another’s face
A face where darkness could shine surreal
Where maidens aught spool with the devils reel
Or could it of been a childish dream
A vagabonds thoughts a saints theme
O’ Maiden of a quiet, mournful, repose
Shouldn’t life’s love be yours to foreclose?
Pray, climb into bed take off my serpent robes.