QUEEN'S REQUIEM

Roses are red,

Snow is white.

They think me dead,

Lost in the night.

Upon the slopes,

I kneel in snow.

The water’s glass

Shows me my foe.

The Feast of Love

Sounds in my halls;

I watch her through

The mirror walls.

Carouse and jaunt

The whole night through.

She knows not love,

The little shrew.

Such passion is

A monstrous fate.

I know too well

All love ‘comes hate.

For on this day

Some years ago,

My love betrayed,

Fell into woe,

And down he fell,

His heart in hand.

The pig now rots,

His soul is damned.

The Feast of Love

Is full of lies.

As apples fall,

So all love dies.

I’ll leave her be,

No need to kill.

Yet I shall have

My vengeance still.

No apple needed,

Or huntsman’s glove;

The slowest poison

Is that of love.