broke our engagement of eight years
Annabelle returned to the village
the Seminary, ah me!
I had let my love for him alone
might have grown into a beautiful sorrow—
knows?—filling my life with healing fragrance.
I tortured it, I poisoned it,
blinded its eyes, and it became hatred—
my soul fell from its support,
tendrils tangled in decay.
not let the will play gardener to your soul
you are sure
is wiser than your soul’s nature.