First published in Winter, 2009, Volume 6, Issue 3, The Hatchet: Journal of Lizzie Borden Studies.

It’s been countless years, it’s been a week

good times and laughter are precious few

this sacred sword has left me weak

and the battle seems lost … and so do you

This crusade’s a futile deception

like the porous armor I continue to wear

for the love I give receives no redemption

despite my strength,  it’s all I can bear

You see, I partake in many a war

a campaign of love is a messy art

the less you give, I battle for more

should have retreated right from the start

It’s been countless years, it’s been a week

good times and laughter are precious few

this sacred sword has left me weak

the battle seems lost and so do you

I wheel this cutlass of ice, of fire

my heart on my sleeve, I fight from my knees

but this steeplechase of love and desire

has lost its passion and hunger for these

Inside I lost this weapon called pride

the scares though aged continue to bleed

to a solider of passion, zeal will subside

when the enemy’s love becomes his need

for it’s been countless years, it’s been a week

good times and laughter are precious few

this sacred sword has left me weak

and the battle seems lost and so do you.