Why do we keep falling in love with those
Unable to love us back, and then chose
To while our souls bleed, their hearts to harden?
Thou prettier than the serpents of Eden,
The witches in Sheol to whom you're agent
Have charmed men who wouldn't be more cogent,
A thousand and one, taking up lament.
It's our Love's fun'ral, thus all gloom arose.
B'hold, on its coff'n pinned I a black rose.
This lowly maiden thou did now sadden.
Handsome as the devils of Aladdin,
You love the tune of a virgin's lament,
Not mistaken for an angel's accent.
Alas. Slam. Slam...the final nail is sent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem