Shall you be my blessing or my bane,
Single taste of joy or shining all?
For love may wax or love may surely wane.
There is in this no touch of lovers’ pain,
No shattered heart or bitter stomach’s gall.
This sweet music is not wholly sane.
Does not love constitute a drain
Upon the guarded soul, an anguished call?
For love may wax or love may surely wane.
A lover fears the wandering eye, the pain
Of loss. Jealousy a soul may swiftly maul.
This sweet music is not wholly sane.
Let us not a stranglehold maintain;
On that road I have seen too many fall.
For love may wax or love may surely wane.
So set me free – perhaps I will remain –
A captive to your hands and lips enthralled.
Though love may wax or love may surely wane,
This sweet music is not wholly sane.
*****
M.A. Mohanraj
September 13, 1994