Oh, if It is not God utmost forbiddance
Oh, if it is not God utmost forbiddance that you make yourself love’s slave
Obedience in thought and discipline under the control of his domineering pleasure
Or at his hand the account of time with him to enjoy and to crave
Being his vassal, his dispensable tool, you bound yourself to stay his leisure
Shall you not suffer being constantly at his bidding beck
The imprisoned in the absence of his calm and cool liberty
And patience, tame to sufferance, bow and bide each check
Without accusing him or holding him account of any injury
To be where he lists his character is so strong
That he himself may provide his account and time
To what he will, to him it does belong
He to pardon himself of self doing mischief or crime
You wait for a change though waiting is hell
But it never comes,
Your comfort, your amends far delaying for years some
Yet you never blame his pleasure be it ill or well
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poem by Isaac Ziv
Added by Poetry Lover
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