this tempest that we so adored
met its eternal end.
He came upon that half-split door
and heard us at our labors
rather than just turn his back
too long he stayed, and savored.
In passion’s heat that man did boil!
until his sanity was rent
Hell-bound, he turned to go and find
the tools to his intent.
So while she rode me wild and high
he crept up from behind
and swung that axe and buried it
where flesh becomes the mind.
Now splattered with my life’s remains
my love did disengage
terror-struck, she scrambled up
and stared into Hell’s rage.
“Your turn comes now,” he said to her
“but I’m sure we’ll meet again
soon we’ll all taste demon spoor
for tonight three souls have sinned!”
71