The right hand that harkened to soothe thy brows
forsooth vanguards the left that spells thy ruin.
She came to thee in nakedness ‘ye saw,
thy yellow grin played her like a clavecin.
Whilom vase filled with posy gently care,
thy indecision maketh poison alack,
from its petals sith thee became a hare
thy hands darketh the ink already black.
A sweven verily haunts the fortress,
swith as the horns of a centaur bleed her
to her I swore fealty my naked mistress,
my lance revealed thy realms of plunder.
In the blood thee spilled, made mirror, there lay,
reflecting a portrait of vile beasts and a man.
The creature that ‘ye bade devour thy prey
is the wolf that one day shall swallow the sun.