Come To Me My Lovely

[RiverNotch]

Fair work, but modern, Victorian, or even Biblical times or not, this does have a bit too much cheese for good taste, and this lacks in structure, in style, in smooth smooth panache. Comments:

Come to me my lovely.
Come let me fall into the grave with you;
Let me find peace in your being. Good to repeat ideas in different words, actually, or at least that's a style I'm getting used to, reading the Bible and all. But for one, the Bible never did it thrice in a row, always twice, and these three starters seem like it, though aren't: Change the words of the second line, and for a bit of modern taste, temper your words.
My heart is of distress;
My heart is torn by the rigors of life. Again, good to repeat, but another thing the Bible tends to do is repeat with concretes, with actual images, rather than even vaguer abstractions. Not "torn by the rigors of life", no, but "torn" by something else, the wolves of the night, the children of Babylon, some thing else. But two notes: when you repeat, use things that are actually tied together; random images obviously won't make high sense. And, at least for again a good bit of modern taste, try to think outside of the box for your images: no "neck is like a tower" perhaps, but, er, "like the Empire State" or something.

Blessed is the one who is pure in the light And what is the point of the allusion to the gospels here?
Whose soul is sweeter than the most delicate of honey. "Most delicate" is not "sweeter". The overabundance of detail here is plainly inexcusable.
Hold fast from the one that lurks in the shadow;
Do not walk blindly to which that consumes you,
For there you will find her snare. Further still, what is the point of this whole set of bland, bland proverbs here? The beauty of Solomon's song is that he never strayed from the point: whatever wisdom is to be gotten from his work there, he assumes his readers will be smart enough to figure out. If I recall right, it's one of the few books in the Book of Books that's barely a mention of the tetragram. 

How can one hold fast when you are far gone?
How can one hold fast where it consumes my soul? Either you don't actually have to repeat every single sentiment you have, or my memopry isn't that well with my Psalms and Isaiahs.
I tell you not, my heart cannot bide fully in both.
The slightest of entices and I run.
But to whom shall I run? This is getting too abstract: it's starting to lose any sense, poetic or proverbial.

To you my lovely,
A beauty beyond the surface of the sea;
A complexity as deep as the ocean.
My soul leads me to your shore;
My heart finds me by your wayside.

But to you,
A beauty as blinding as gold shimmering from the sun.
A complexity intertwined with the metal of my own.
With you I find the passion I crave.
With you I find the life I left behind. But the cloying sensibility of these sentiments are rather endearing. The headers for these past two stanzas feel superfluous, while the stop with the myth of the metals here feels just plain wrong: again, no unnecessary explicits in Solomon's song.

To feel trapped by your heart,
But free from your touch.
I walk where I choose freely,
But fear to venture beyond your path.
A view beautiful beyond the horizon.

A ravage of fire and wind consumes my soul.
Burning that which cannot be burned.
Chasing that which cannot be chased.
I fear the one who lurks in the shadow.
Yet I realize now it was I the entire time. And you lost me. Plus, most of the images here pretty much break from one of the chief rules with this sort of thing, which is to tie every symbol together: even the Bible as a whole volume has that sort of sense, even when it seems like it doesn't. This is just a pastiche, and that could be commendable, if the pastiche recognized its ridiculousness.