676
The Destroyer of a Soul
MrZombez
:: I hate you with a necessary hate :: First, I sought patience: passionate was she: :: My patience turned in very scorn of me :: That I should dare forgive a sin so great :: As this, through which I sit disconsolate; :: Mourning for that live soul, I used to see; :: Soul of a saint, whose friend I used to be: :: Til you came by! a cold, corrupting fate :: Why come now? You whom I cannot cease :: With pure and perfect hate to hate? Go, ring :: The death-bell with a deep, triumphant toll! :: Say you, my friend sits by me still? Ah, peace! :: Call you this thing my friend? this nameless thing? :: This living body, hiding its dead soul?