To balance the scales of this love, this trial,
What stars would I need to take?
How many oceans to put out the flames,
And this thirst for you to slake?
How many peaks on which to plant my feet?
What deserts would I have to cross?
Where are the cold and lonely wastes
To endure, in expiation of this loss?
The worlds we know are not wide enough
To hold the fury of my desire;
I am caged, hemmed in on every side,
By a cold eternity of fire,
Which spirals downwards towards the end
Of each one of my worldly cares.
Is this where it stops, will this be my doom?
Trapped in hot, subterranean lairs?
Pursued in foul and sweating darkness
By nameless terrors, and the night?
Stretched on the rack of foolish hope?
Broken on the wheel of spite?
Do I fight to purge my aching soul,
And regain your love, and my Seat of Mars?
Or do I shrug, and smile, and drink the cup,
And take my place amongst the stars?
