Ugly-ugly oh heart of mine art thee,
That bid thy lover be full of hate for me.
All thy beauty oh glorious skin of mine,
Now death consumes thy left-over shrine.
What caused thee to err in an unpardonable way as such?
What made thee such a reaper?
That sucked the life and blood and marrow,
Out of thy lover all day, all night, piercing it deeper and deeper and deeper?
Oh such sham,a camouflage; a hateful heart of mine!
Why do thee still wish for thy lover's love?
Such audacity,such arrogance,pride or shamelessness?do ye believe in God at all?
Oh hate thyself for being born,hate thyself and die,hate my heart hate yourself,
Don't ye dare look in thy murderer's eye.
Drink death as sweet as honey,
Tear down thy scarlet skin with the dagger of fury;
What do ye think Oh foolish heart,
Will it pain more than thy lover's wounded part?
Haah! Oh! hush that sound of thy wings,
What ye think,ye can escape Oh so quickly?
No my heart,not just right now,
Let that pain burn in thee, let it become thy agony.
Till ye have nailed thyself in the grave oh heart,
Till ye have felt those ripping, tearing fangs of the hell hound sharp,
Till thy blood,thy body,thy soul,thy shadow; hates thee shredding thee into pieces every hour...
And even then my heart...Hate thyself and die,hate thyself and feed...feed on thy wounds to make it cry......
That bid thy lover be full of hate for me.
All thy beauty oh glorious skin of mine,
Now death consumes thy left-over shrine.
What caused thee to err in an unpardonable way as such?
What made thee such a reaper?
That sucked the life and blood and marrow,
Out of thy lover all day, all night, piercing it deeper and deeper and deeper?
Oh such sham,a camouflage; a hateful heart of mine!
Why do thee still wish for thy lover's love?
Such audacity,such arrogance,pride or shamelessness?do ye believe in God at all?
Oh hate thyself for being born,hate thyself and die,hate my heart hate yourself,
Don't ye dare look in thy murderer's eye.
Drink death as sweet as honey,
Tear down thy scarlet skin with the dagger of fury;
What do ye think Oh foolish heart,
Will it pain more than thy lover's wounded part?
Haah! Oh! hush that sound of thy wings,
What ye think,ye can escape Oh so quickly?
No my heart,not just right now,
Let that pain burn in thee, let it become thy agony.
Till ye have nailed thyself in the grave oh heart,
Till ye have felt those ripping, tearing fangs of the hell hound sharp,
Till thy blood,thy body,thy soul,thy shadow; hates thee shredding thee into pieces every hour...
And even then my heart...Hate thyself and die,hate thyself and feed...feed on thy wounds to make it cry......