A woman comes unbroken,
For she is proud.
And she is lonely when hindered,
By the restraints from love.
She has a face corroded by shadows,
Beneath eyes and against her lashes.
I am cornered by sorrow,
And the kisses weighing heavily.
The moon speaks a courting song,
Her beauty mimics my own defeat.
Her denial has been my retreat.
Her heart is my singular song,
One of pain, one of an aim,
To create harm upon my baleful tempest.
You shall listen,
For I have commanded it.
Fall heavily into these arms,
That have carried the Earth’s woes,
I see a tear that dangles loosely,
From a shadow beneath your eyes.
You will desire no one, and nothing more,
But the face of God, who comes with wrath,
A burn, from a man in terrible torment,
And you will see dust.