I wonder which of us dies first, she says
Draw the breath which just the other last exhaled.

Taste the death which parts from lover's lips as
lover takes their absence into acting part.

Scowl down at those waking eyes grow weaker,
and that loving gaze removed,
uncover’d stale indifference, pale and rude
without condition.

The bittersweet of promise when the memory
appears.

If you plan for the future, you will drown in the surprise
Only see the nightmares that with fate may at a time align.

The wicked sting experience of horrors yet unrealized may
bring.

To understand that waiting chance is always fatal, all
romances end, and all flirtatious glances over time
oblivion contends.

If no one really cares, then you will never understand.

Bleed the whore, a thousand black lies in your future, now
To know that love once lost is still the brute concession
of a lover once derailed from past affairs.

All-seeing future tell me how I ever can avoid your crooked smile!

This witch, she feeds on cankered sores, bah! like the greed of fall,
sucks she the summer with her misted gloar and winter freeze her tail!

As to remind through sweetest demon spine to lay the scene with swift
and pruned unwind, o! cancer, can you free me of these grossest pines!
A devil, you in small intestines clothed! Speak to me blandly and I’ll
answer in a toppled tone!

Grasshoppers in your dreams shriek like frightful phantoms
In pained nights to come, flee freely into dreams of
dimpled cheeks in welcome hands.

Awake by twitch of aching present,
dulled in all emotions by the twitch of
Fortune’s promises mistaken.

Blaze richen, bitter flames reflected daftly in the crimson ice.
O! gauge of all my passions, in the darkest piles of smoldered coal
and shattered embers, where you be?

So all the world shall tumble if I cannot stand,
and all things recreated in a wake of simmer’d tears
and stretches of a shallow’d game of hope. Through
petrifying wilderness, see I, an evil glint that bar’ly
touches on my eye.
O! grandest of illusions, I shall call you by the name of love,
and each time I address you, it shall be with desp’rate cries or
the surrender of my weeping or with morbid vows of ravishment,
revenge.