A hollow heart’s Beat is shrill, Slow, nigh still, Until another’s starts To fill it; faster Then it speeds Towards the needs Of both. Ask her Honestly for Constancy. “My Dear, myself I Deny. What is more, Were you to Go, to leave, Me bereave Of she who Saved a slowing Heart from stalling, A sinful soul from falling Further from Love's knowing, I would forgive, Though not forget; My maker met, I could not live. Should you not Requite, state Disdain; create A martyr, plot To drop the blade Upon me; behead This husk, this dead, Dank frame, made For one mind, Souls two. Three persons do Our union bind."
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William, you've outdone yourself with this one. This is definitely one of my favorite poems you've ever written, I loved every line.