My lady, she turned away,

with a single, pitying glance,

at me,

one as in a trance.

My sir, he walked away,

disgusted, hence,

thinking ill of me,

me, inside the fence.

The rest, they will keep ignoring,

not understanding, nor quite knowing,

of my impish implorings.

Of the devil, inside the brain,

inside my brain,

killing me, like Abel, of Cain,

and I,

not able to restrain,


must continue,

to endure the pain.

The Lunatic-