LAMENT OF OF THE INFIDEL WIFE

O my loving life
Whence cometh myself
From this daunting height?
Reeking of this sight
In memory delight.

How sad my plight ?
beholding  this terror
Of loving one, and
Married to the other.
Saddened by the husbandman

Be merry by the stranger-man.
How cruel my contentions?
How bad my affection?
Played at, by my intentions
With the husband man.

What a genuine gift of uneasiness
And peril to the self.
When all that is in my want,
All that is in my quest
Is an unconditional joy

And an overwhelmed laughter 
Between son, the husbandman and self.
Not the incessant weary cause to the self now, 

Nor this turmoil within my self
Can ease me of my drift.

O
My loving life
Whence cometh my self
From this daunting height
Hmm.

For whatever we sought (like apathy or libido)
Outside the marriage home
It's anxiety we end up to own.