My Guinevere
In this hell you hold the hand of our Lord.
Deep inside my heart troubles towards doom,
If I could cast it upon my own sword
And if I could request for just one boon.
Fear to accept what my heart proclaims true?
With no reasoning and poisoned with lies
My ambition can never be with you
I am haunted by your beautiful eyes.
There’s no profit from the promise we’ve kept,
Which cannot be honoured to ours above.
Denial and deceit we must both accept,
We must from our good lord both hide our love.
And inevitably darkness draws nears,
Discovery will realise our fears.
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