Cut and thrust the blade through the silken dress

Undress the love that covers her shame and bless

The loving life with your rampant charms

Beware the repartee and the lunge that will finalise your harm.

Over analyse the static stance of a willing heart

Too late you have realised her deepest lovers part

Passing up the right to thrust the final blade

Into a heart so full of woe and deaths lonely shade.

Flick and stab the knife into the wounds of love

No going back to the days of rampant love

Only the steady drip of the bloods cold stream

Will fulfil the destiny of a heart that has to dream

Of something coming to deliver from the wound

And you to cut and thrust the sword of eternal doom

Loving Lord you are not, but one will come her wounds to cauter

And satisfy every longing emotion that belongs only to her…