love is a stranger

love is a demon whose plains i roam like a mongol on horseback
mistress of my range is sometimes kind, sometimes harsh
she shows me a face of a blue moon at dusk
she shows me a face of a pale star at dawn
it is not by habit that i could guess her mood nor intention

love is a stranger whose bed i sometimes wake to sunrise in
mistress of my comfort sometimes hides her face from me
i am often left in a castle resplendent with candlelight
i am often left in a castle with a hundred windows and no exit
it is not by knowing my place that i am in her good graces

love is a jealous partner in crime who like me is a thief
mistress of my riches sometimes tosses me a golden wishbone
she brings me garnets and rubies but never a clear diamond
she brings me silks from far off places and uses them to bind
it is not by trust that i relinquish verses to her possession

love is a potion of a cynical heart torn witch i know
love is an addiction of a violent tempered god i worship
between spirit, body and mind love holds me together
like a thousand splinters trying to burst from constant heartache
like a multitude of hungers trying to meet their constant craving