Inanimate bloodstains,
Dust in the tears’ of men.
Weeping willows shade the truth.
Come,
Come again,
Where fields of Love lay
Barren.
Still these wandering eyes,
Still this beating heart.
Fires of passion,
Dear,
Dead,
In the languid souls of men.
Of men, we wonder.
Of men, we scoff.
Of men, we take.
Till only Death remains.