I used to read every night <br />My thin book, of your heart's own verse: <br />Pages of threadbare longing <br />For your sentences recompense- <br />Words now which mirror, <br />Unreconstituted prose <br />That from impotency, arose <br />Toward my heart, like a lettered blight <br />Of languages silenced, by words <br />Our day became more like a night <br />Though once, I had even transpired <br />To imagine empires conquered; <br />Armageddons deftly averred <br />But now in consternation, I find <br />I'm to light my own funeral pyre; <br />Let my tears become my dirge <br />Of sorry tales that could deafen <br />Blind men, in a stumbling rage <br />I'll drag my own chains back to hell, <br />Since your mercy's worse than your hate <br />And, as there's no music heard there, <br />I shall welcome my toneless fate; <br />Music gave too much hope <br />For hope, without any dreams <br />The present song annihilates.<br /><br />Patti Masterman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-used-to-read-every-night/
