A bit of poison on the tongue
Or prick of knife upon the chest,
Will bring down her lover’s heart
And help him find eternal rest.
The wedding vow will now stand broken,
“To love forever” will not be kept.
The bride is free to find another
And build anew her lover’s nest–
‘Til at last she does grow weary
And bond of love becomes no more;
She’ll seek to find another mate,
After all, she is a whore–
A whore for love and title too,
She longs to stand and say “I do”.
A million times and ten times more
Until love’s union is a chore–
And so she’ll spill his blood anew,
Then shed false tears with grief untrue;
Bid adieu, give kiss goodbye
Touch cold cheek and eulogize–
Oh murd’rous woman! Wife and fiend,
She knows no guilt, her shame unseen.
She’ll kill each man with whom she shared
A solemn vow, an oath to care;
And then move on her wicked way
To play dear wife another day.
COPYRIGHT 2012 © ELIZABETH MICHAUD JOHN. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED