If You Find the Cure for Love, Throw in Thrash

When bitten by love wherefore looks a cure?

Twice we see the mark of the gruesome crime

Or three counts but the eye mistakes the lure

For the poison the heart does not strong find

Such a wound would without a remedy

Forever in the poet's mind linger,

the lover's mind consider tragedy,

The reader's mind a tragic death-bringer!

Is hope lost in this world without this pill?

The magic powder that would keep slumber,

And make these eyes a captive of its will,

Would break the spirit of fearsome numbers!

Nay, let me be without that toxic juice!

Kill sweet poisonous death, ado, ado!