Beautiful One

La Tempête De Neige, Turner (1842) Oil on canvas. Sourced from https://goo.gl/C5WLZ4

I am searching for something,
Grasping in the dark at fallen, decayed fruits,
Blinded by billowing winds of sorrow and salt,
Deceived by ditches in the dark, dull despair of dread
Until, amongst my anxiety,
Led by licentiousness,
I fall upon you,
Beautiful one.

I will seize this hand that you offer me,
I will offer up my desperation, my dedication, my damnation,
Dreaming of drowning in your despair;
How I long to drown with you.

But this cruel search has curbed my compassion,
And I wish to possess that which has perished.
My find is thus futile,
And my hope lost.

I will eventually grow tired,
Beautiful one,
Of your body’s sweet embrace.
It is I who will despair when the current turns once more against me,
Discarding my love for you, drowning me alone.
I want everything you have,
Everything you are,
For myself.

- Mercedes McGrath