April 3 — In different ways

In different ways we let ourselves be caught.
You tied your wrists with love and bowed your heart.
Submission of the spirit is an art
I never learned. It’s true I always thought
You paid too high a price, but I don’t know.
I fought so long to save the dying light;
I was a fearless warrior, til the night
It said, “Beloved one — I want to go.”

In horror I released my bloody sword.
Then darkness came, and with a grateful sigh
The light gave in, a lover running toward
Home, open arms, the end of all goodbyes.

Coward, behold your fool! O what a pair,
With love as chains and freedom as a snare!

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