Long long time, no see... I wrote this poem as my LARP character, a paladin, who is in love with a young priestess from his own order. Their order is not celibate, so their love is not forbidden - on the contrary, her love gives him a renewed sense of life (yes, it's a very sappy romance ). However, he still wrestles with the balance between his duty to his Goddess and his devotion to his beloved, and... well, hopefully, you'll see when you read it. At any rate, it made for some beautiful roleplaying scenes, but I wasn't sure what to do with it afterwards. And then I remembered Radio Rivendell . . . What have I in this world to give that I might call my own? No more, alas, that which doth live - my tears, my flesh and bone. They were once mine, but are no longer bound unto my name, For blade and fire and spell and fist were stronger in their claim. Their blows were sealed, those wounds of strife, by our Lady’s light So that, remade and flush of life, I’d rise once more to fight. But ne’er could I presume to call this mortal body mine, Shaped as it is, from womb to fall, by Healing Hands Divine. . The nobles pledge their spirit to their oaths and their desires, As mages bind their mind unto the laws of distant fires; Yet I cannot, though I might long to offer up my heart, For bound it is by bands too strong for me to ever part. My heart is held within the palm of our Lady’s hand Who granteth me her holy calm, all evils to withstand - Once I did fear, yet did not see, that I be rendered cold And though I warmed, my mind’s not free from our Lady’s hold. . My soul meanwhile, th’eternal spark which filleth me with grace Was never mine but borrow’d from beyond our time and space. How might I then repay the hand whose warmth did touch my heart And burned within that darkened land like heaven’s falling dart? For all that thou hast shelter’d me, and held my soul with thine, I would but wish to kindle thee, and bring thy spark to shine. But all my gifts I cannot give, for they are not my own, And I’d despair if I did live by those three gifts alone. . Yet thou hast wakened me to find a force I did not see That meldeth body, soul and mind, thereby composing me. What harmony might hold these three enthrall’d within its song? What grace could grant them liberty, yet bind them all as one? There’s but one word in every tongue for this unbridled drive, Which out of two makes one and each one maketh alive All men, mage, mortal and divine, must bow before its force: ‘Tis Love, which binding me remains but mine - And therefore now is Yours. . . . Thanks for reading, I look forward to your comments!

Updated 25 August 2016 (02:42)