Poems of Blood

Woeful Countenance

How much I loved you

is only in my poems of blood.


Be not angry at my heartfelt descriptions.


I am the Knight of the Woeful Countenance

and you knew this.


Your decision to continue was yours

and mine was mine.


There is no right or wrong, nor blame

I went willing to the tree of woe.


Be not angry with me now

when you read my dreams.


Respect and accept

that my heart’s dance…


Is no longer choreographed,

by your honest, indifference.