Damaged | Teen Ink

Damaged

January 10, 2017
By ChristineOnwenu GOLD, Detroit, Michigan
ChristineOnwenu GOLD, Detroit, Michigan
18 articles 33 photos 2 comments

If pleased themselves, others, they think, delight
Teaching them thus to use it in the fight,
A loss in love that touches me more nearly.
And yet it may be said I loved her dearly;

How she came stealing to the wayward boy!
For Helen's rape the city to destroy,
Besides, of weariness he did complain him,
Came for additions; yet their purposed trim

His batter'd shield, his uncontrolled crest,
Here she exclaims against repose and rest,
Soft pity enters at an iron gate.
Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date.

Here friend by friend in bloody channel lies,
To drown one woe, one pair of weeping eyes.
As with your shadow I with these did play:
How many lambs might the stem wolf betray?

The scar that will, despite of cure, remain;
And with his strong course opens them again.
Let those who are in favour with their stars
We are their offspring, and they none of ours.

Cool shadow to his melting buttock lent:
For he the night before, in Tarquin's tent,
O, what excuse will my poor beast then find,
Griped in an armed hand; himself, behind,

Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend;
''Now all these hearts that do on mine depend,
Therefore to give them from me was I bold,
Who, peeping forth this tumult to behold,

Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
And Titan, tired in the mid-day heat,
Like shrill-tongued tapsters answering every call,
Beating her bulk, which his hand shakes withal.

My spirits to attend this double voice accorded,
Which with cold terror doth men’s mind confound?
Once more the engine of her thoughts began:
Stain to all nymphs, lovelier than a man,

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
Be prodigal: the lamp that burns by night
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
Comes all too late, yet let the traitor die;

Though neither eyes nor ears, to neither hear nor see,
'Shall plight your honourable faiths to me,
That done, despitefully I mean to bear thee
'How like a jade he stood, tied to the tree,

Look, what is best, that best I wish in thee:
Or made them swear against the thing they see;
Turns not, but swells the higher by this let.
And with the wind in greater fury fret:

For rich caparisons or trapping gay?
Therefore, in sadness, now I will away;
Which is bleeding under Pyrrhus' proud foot lies?
To drown one woe, one pair of weeping eyes.



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