My Love Is Like a Corpse
My love is like a corpse
Upon the gothic floor
Where I have wept till soul is dry
With eyes like corpses when they rise
Behold the sun which melts away
Dying daily with no shame
What shone what found I cannot say
But love is cruel in its way
A kiss like vampires delight
To feed so rabidly at night
As lips of tender crimson drip
Strange man should pine to die like this
And low a shadow in the trees
With moon—and sun upon her knees
Tis darkness in its velvet garb
The mother of my morbid heart
For there are shadows like to trees
They grow surplanting us beneath
Their roots are sorrow in our heart
Such is the macabre of their art
As when upon the listlessness of world
I roam or linger and the breeze
Has coughed and spat its mist on me
A kiss oh naiad of the night
Those lips have cursed my mortal plight
A kiss as soft as corpses breath
Imparting unto me
Some faint but mellow memory
Of love-as love is tragically
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