Monorhyme: It is not love, but maddness.
He spoke and her silence he could not bear
She laughed and robbed him of his very air
He breathed and her heart he did ensnare
She moaned and he cried as a wild mare
He lingered by her side and fell into her lair
She bled and in his veins was a seeping tear
He looked her in the eye and with fiery flare
Said I love you, my jewel so rare,
And in your arms, I’ll never despair.
