Young Widow




In hell-racked nights, sleepless I lay

To madness driven, down descend.

For redemption, indeed I pray:

Cease wanton sins! My mind torments!


Your lips, your skin, female perfection

Are noble virtues you embed.

In truth I hold no ill intentions,

But to bury lust with the dead.


O pain! The chains of morality

Are blades of hell that score my heart.

So foul! My love, which holds such beauty

Is tainted by the Devil’s mark.


Your death would not have come so soon

Had not we shared our mother’s womb

After ‘The Duchess of Malfi’ by John Webster

image courtesy of Shakespeare’s Globe, Globe On Screen

One thought on “Young Widow

  1. Powerful poem, April! You capture much of this complex and deadly sibling relationship with careful crafting and precision. Moving without being sensational. Superb.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *