Beside the shores of the bare sea
Have I laid before thine birth;
With numb hands that had known not which
I have cried my heart for thee.
...
If my hand should dribble of blood,
And my clothing of slime and mud,
If I gird my thighs with bows,
See me, but speak not howbeit.
...
Why do men accept defeat?
And let their hearts, beat in bits.
They all fear to face their fears,
They let her burrow through their dreams.
...
As I tread this forbidden path;
Tears, like river, floods my eyes.
With Evil tongues prattling on,
I am Bathed with fire and Brine.
...
I don't always love;
I don't always trust,
I always don't fear;
I always don't care.
...
Say not what would please the ears;
To the lofty flies that'd feast my blood,
Sprinkle not the cakes icing;
When worms come to dine my flesh.
...
Would I have in flesh exist;
Nor my trespasses desist,
Could not sin my soul defeat,
If He had not loved me first?
...
Blame me not for the words i spoke;
Even as they fled my mouth.
Hold them not against my soul;
When my hands and feet grow cold.
...
If death lure my dear breath with a kiss;
If she drags its beloved soul to its pit,
If it pummels my body along with it;
Then, I'd go quitting future for defeat.
...