The poison apple
Found her lips, red-rimmed, unkissed;
She collapsed into a virgin abyss.
When you found her there, you carried her home,
To keep her as your very own.
You waited above her as she slept for days,
And shook her body with violent craze.
"O bride, death white, awake!"
She was pure as a child who burns at the stake.
She slept right through your true love’s kiss,
And died without such treacherous bliss.