My Love Is Like a Corpse

My love is like a corpse Upon the gothic floor Where I have wept till soul is dry With eyes like corpses when they rise Behold the sun which melts away Dying daily with no shame What shone what found I cannot say But love is cruel in its way A kiss like vampires delight To feed so rabidly at night As lips of tender crimson drip Strange man should pine to die like this And low a shadow in the trees With moon—and sun upon her knees Tis darkness in its velvet garb The mother of my morbid heart For there are shadows like to trees They grow surplanting us beneath Their roots are sorrow in our heart Such is the macabre of their art As when upon the listlessness of world I roam or linger and the breeze Has coughed and spat its mist on me A kiss oh naiad of the night Those lips have cursed my mortal plight A kiss as soft as corpses breath Imparting unto me Some faint but mellow memory Of love-as love is tragically