O lover, O muse, you strike me–abuse!
Your tender, graceful kisses–******!
Your words are greased with lies obtuse,
Oil enough to light a fuse.

I was born of pedigree,
Taught and raised with chivalry,
To, someday, be noble knight,
Of strong and loyal moral might.

Then, you came and caught my neck,
Breathing lust in tender pecks.
"Man of valor, lie with me.
Savor love with liberty…”

Strong with urge, driven by hate,
Lust-filled love–yes, satiate!
Your saintly face like holy art,
Too late! You are the Devil at heart.

Now I lie in grueling pain,
Body slain and spirit stained.
Repenting–pleading!–by blood and mercy,
That I might enter into life, though maimed.