love has a heavy price,

time demands its toll,

ephemeral the bonds

wanton mortality stole

he's in bed, very poorly,

I feel he might be dying,

lucozade's not working,

I hear only weak crying

yet he's had a good life,

for after all, he had me,

swains I rued when he

went down on his knee

long years I devoted

to what is my inferior,

he never had...

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