Exiled

Into the wastes I walked--staffless, scripless, friendless--an exile.

I had taken something that was not mine to take; but love for me stayed the hand of him who should have killed me--as had been just. Whether this undeserved life which I am now granted be a boon or a curse, I cannot say.

By my weakness I was damned! I should never have see her again--but my savage heart knew this but a thread-bare lie that my burning shame might be somewhat cloaked.

I lived in dreams--intoxicated by her closeness, the sweetness of her breath, the perfume of her body. But she was not mine to have.

The splendor of the court dazzled me, and I drank of this splendor, as if I had never been sated.

His friendship is more to me than my very life, which is his, even now, unconditionally.