Of all the poisons that run and grow
Many I´ve studied and stored for my own
But none of them vices works as strong
As the words been spilled by your rivals tongue

Oh, many a poison acts swift or slow
Some crueler than others, either painfull or dull
Yet none of them traceless, as the feelings below
Caused by defilement of a broken vow

True a poison works baneful
Yet compared to attaint
It is mellow and gracious
Saving further complaint

Oh I rather choose the poison
Than the tainted, evil words
Poured by trusted, out of treason
For the poison barely hurts

And I rather die in pain
Than suffer by my pride
And I rather die in vain
Than stay by the devils side