Satan
-
I could see the necessity in wishing to know,The love I’ve come to commit to my own atrocity.My beauty, you have exquisiteness in every breath,And a mark upon your shoulder has been to count,Each subtle sigh under morning light,In before I come to share my place near your death. Love at my left hand, and
-
Romance, in thy very eyes,How devilish are those very tresses,That lash thy keenest neck,That raises to even keener eyes.I have perception to see thy wickedness,And a mark I’ve burned into thy skin. Where would God tell us to roam,When in this embrace?We have failed among Saints, who had watchedOur faltering.We failed God in His expectancy.
Modern Romanticism 