---

I shall strike you without anger

And without hate, like a butcher

The lymph of suffering may brim

To slake my desert of its drought

So my desire, by hope made stout

Upon your salty tears may swim

Like a vessel which puts to sea

And in my heart that they'll make drunk

Your beloved sobs will resound

Like a drum beating the charge!

Am I not a discord

In the heavenly symphony

Thanks to voracious Irony

She's in my voice, the termagant!

All my blood is her black poison!

I am the sinister mirror

In which the vixen looks

I am the wound and the dagger!

I am the blow and the cheek!

I am the members and the wheel

Victim and executioner!

I'm the vampire of my own heart

One of those utter derelicts

Condemned to a hysterical laugh

And ferocious smile