O woe is me! My heart knows its desire!
It sings when my eyes view my precious muse.
Yet when it's him they see, it burns in fire;
I'm singed by he to whom my love I'll lose.
Maybe I'm wrong with this, is it Envy
Which grabs my soul with talons sharp as steel?
If false, then maybe Rage is gripping me
Straight to the core, so only that I feel?
That's it! 'Tis rage and anger that's inside
I hold to him as well as muse so dear!
To him because from me my love he's pried,
And muse for not wanting to me to be near.
My feelings of anger and rage are strong,
But still I love youm and know I'm wrong.