Woeful Regrets

O Thou my Soul, methinks thou wrongst me. 

That tongue that once only dripped sweet honey,

Now lashes at my heart with scorn and enmity.

An innocent word meant to soothe but only baited,

Caused such horrendous total devastation,

Filled my nights with suffering and confusion,
A bright new morning, perhaps a new start?

Nay, more black words of venom and foreboding,
Now I am dying, you have slayed my heart.

I will not lie down and let you trample

O'er my poor and wounded soul,

I must stand up and fight this battle,

This hostile assault is now taking its toll.

Have I lost you my love, my muse, my friend?

My words spoken wrongfully were never meant to offend.