Both at a very rough stage.
Francesca and Paolo
I asked what was their story,
but sulking Paolo only wept,
and Francesca said with sorrow,
"It was the book's fault,
wherein we read of Lance and Gwen,
for what the book said, we did,
and when they touched and kissed,
then Paolo, and this was his fault,
leaned in with touch and kiss,
and I couldn't refrain from return,
for Love overpowers all,
and through the fault of love
we read no more that day."
So said Francesca sadly;
but sulking Paolo only wept.
Some there are who cannot reason;
seasons pass them in the snow.
Frozen in their hearts' desires,
fires cannot such souls thaw.
Awful is their hell self-building,
gilded with malicious frost,
costly in its rare derangements,
stranger than a madman's thought.
Caught in irony iron-bounded
redounding to their blatant shame,
nameless fears they feel are winging,
singing in unholy rains.