A Beggar’s Moon

God has not waited for a sinner’s penance,

As I have waited for you to find a balance,

In your irresolute life but you would not,

Seeing you relish on leaving me distraught.

Neither has an invalid longed for the dawning,

As I have incessantly with this tedious longing,

Albeit in a stale declension to candidly tell thee,

Profane though it be that you should lay with me.

Neither has the grave for the latterly departed,

Waited as I have like a garden long deserted,

For a tepid drop of your half-hearted affection,

Like a pilgrim soul in a quest for subjection.

But seeing as there is no hope ‘n as I am weary,

I’m to free myself ‘n let days pass albeit heavily.

I must no more for you light my candles at noon,

I must not waste my wishes on a beggar’s moon.

©Quinns