Forswear loathsome, wilting death
And seek to be a melancholy ghost,
To suffer the curse of mortal love
'Til I can be joined with thee.
Then naught shall tempt our perilous vows,
Nor part your hand from me.
So damn your soul,
And damn mine own,
For how could I live without thee...
Copyright 2004 weheldhandsattheendoftheworld
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