I live far beyond the mountains of madness,
where the snow of winter gathers year-round.
I live in an ivory palace decorated with sadness
by a rushing river where many souls have drowned,
and as I gaze upon those stormy waters,
hostility arises from these old bones of mine.
A body came here from beyond the borders,
and left so soon, leaving neither mark nor sign.
How my heart aches for that tempest to return,
how my heart aches for a love lost and spurned.

But other thoughts begin to weary my mind,
her love was false and red flags were waved,
her claws in my heart, I was in such a bind.
There was no one around, I could never be saved,
a monster dressed in colours of summery weather,
a monster created from the depths of resentment.
She had anger in her wings, a blood-red feather
heralding my forthcoming discontentment.
The pen is mightier than the sword, so they say.
My pen will spill more blood than every sword in history.

All I ever was to her was a stepping stone,
“Chew on this for a bit while I search for myself,”
saw this old dog and threw him a ******* bone.
I have a suggestion, have you searched the bowels of hell?
You’re a ****, you see, that’s where you all come from.
***** like you come and go like days of the week.
Now you’re off getting your fix of another guy’s ***,
I hope he’s all you’re after, malleable and meek.
The Queen of *****, hell, the **** of *****,
always on the prowl and always on the hunt.

This is my love poem I dedicate to you,
a carousel of black lies and words that meant nothing.
I hope you find the time to read this, I really, really do,
but you don’t have the ***** to reply, to say a thing.
You’re a coward through and through, always ******* running,
handing out dreams and hope, snatching them back,
but that karmic wheel up there is always turning.
Karma has her eyes on you, you’ll get thrown off the tracks.
******* and all your dreams, your family and life,
my words are here to slice you like a very sharp knife.