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hell hath no pain like a woman loving in vane.
Folder:
Dark stuff Give me those lips that I adore
and I will give you those lips that you yearn for
I will part them like an aching whore
an opened wound
held with your tender strokes
eased and filled to healing
I was wrong to deny the gold of our love
yet my mortal design is flawed
I am forever worthy
to wallow in an unfulfilled love
I will never be deserving or free
the penance is worse than hell either way
I only want to be responsible
for my own private hell.
