Selfish Fears

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Many fears I suppress,
In my Hugr I retain, in my Minni remain.

Being someone's second choice
Is one I fear th'most.
To be someone's second love,
Th'one they settled for.

Oh! To long for more!

The women with age tell tales of yore,
To their grandaughter's they confess hurt
Of a time long ago
When their love was young and bold.

They speak of their unrequited love
Oh, so boldly one could weep.
Th'one's they speak of so fondly
Taken by death, or their former loves' flame dwindl'ed lame.

So they settl'ed for th'one in second place.

And so, I cannot help but feel
My fears emerge of pains concealed,
That, if I were to love my wife, my gliss'ning bride,
And cherish her like one's own life,
To reach high into Freyr's abode
-Those gliss'ning skies in which we behold
Those gold'n rays shimm'ring bold-
And give'er my world,
And I overheard whilst walking by,
Or if the winds told me,
"Lo there, th'one who dreams too high!
Your wife has ills you can't fulfill!
Of a former lover, her heart beats for, still!"

I'd probably kill myself.

I duly understand how selfishly I feel;
I recognize the human ordeals.
Oh, how I know how complicated it is to feel!

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