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 slut
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.