You, Capricorn Boy

What misfortunes could be
as thick as thieves
and err them as fortuity;
to afflict
and deceive me, if they can
Thus would I writ what words
are left with my red right hand;
that the world is yours,
and you are mine to leave

I tunneled Time to build my recluse
only that you do not age but smolder:
The older I am the more your Youth burns
Calm is my weapon; venom may be this Bare Archer
I leave you now and return tonight,
my little Capricorn Boy
And thus did he writ what words
are left with his red right hand;
that the world is yours,
and you are his to leave

You deadly Stranger, always apart
Tomorrow perhaps
I catch the Sun with my arms;
You deadly Sun, cold is your glare
Tomorrow perhaps
I catch the Sun with my arms;
And I refuse, little Capricorn Boy,
a thousand Leaps to bewilder, to your bewilderment:
What misfortunes could be
as thick as thieves
and err them as fortuity;

I behold in yours what bright Words fell;
so Rewrit I did
But my quill is tied to what I know
and what I know is bound to my reed:
Truths are only what the heart tells them to be
Beguiled thus am I;
Bedeviled am I
to have caught the world in my arms
Solaced am I, and re-writ I did:
I caught the World with my Misfortuned arms.