Ink Idle

“Love is nothing but a fiend,

To friend and foe alike,

Sly, it creeps up and deepens

Leaving the strongest fragile;

What chance did I have,

A damsel wooed passionately

By this monster handsome ‘n suave,

Slipped under my gown discretely.

Ye Hono’ I musn’t shed a tear,

‘Cause the brave must be strong,

Yet a tender heart now squirms,

Eager to see him writh in fear;

For the deeds he hath done

Inexclipcably inhuman-

Ye Hono’, though I may have

Lay myself to him bare,

As the summer harvest,

I beg you, chastise him as you will

A traitor to the state, a witch among

The fair: Klaus, I shall spit on thy ashes.”

– Marie