A tumultuous existence
The malady of my soul
She smiles, her moist lips
Ready to strike you down
With viper’s wine

And I? I look on, pierced through the stomach
As the blood starts seeping out
Demonstrating her victory, and my loss.
That notorious ****
Even now caressing your eyes
And stealing your tongue

And I? I find myself fleeing once again
Flying from my own tomb
That wears your gravestone.

Call forth a eulogy
Her name is dead.