It is the ugly stain on the wall
the scar which breaks her cheek
the murdered childrens call
evils tyranny of the weak.
It is the light burning the eyes,
the moons sad soft face,
the truth of a piteous demise,
bleeding arms restrained by lace.
It is a single strand of hair
floating gaily in the breeze
It is lusts infernal stare;
Love is a lovers disease.