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I am especially grateful, however, to have known the fifties, before we began to poison our own civilization - or at least before the effects of the poison began to be felt.

quote by Orson Scott Card
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tale XIII

JESSE AND COLIN.

A Vicar died and left his Daughter poor -
It hurt her not, she was not rich before:
Her humble share of worldly goods she sold,
Paid every debt, and then her fortune told;
And found, with youth and beauty, hope and health,
Two hundred guineas was her worldly wealth;
It then remain'd to choose her path in life,
And first, said Jesse, 'Shall I be a wife? -
Colin is mild and civil, kind and just,
I know his love, his temper I can trust;
But small his farm, it asks perpetual care,
And we must toil as well as trouble share:
True, he was taught in all the gentle arts
That raise the soul and soften human hearts;
And boasts a parent, who deserves to shine
In higher class, and I could wish her mine;
Nor wants he will his station to improve,
A just ambition waked by faithful love;
Still is he poor--and here my Father's Friend
Deigns for his Daughter, as her own, to send:
A worthy lady, who it seems has known
A world of griefs and troubles of her own:
I was an infant when she came a guest
Beneath my father's humble roof to rest;
Her kindred all unfeeling, vast her woes,
Such her complaint, and there she found repose;
Enrich'd by fortune, now she nobly lives,
And nobly, from the bless'd abundance, gives;
The grief, the want, of human life she knows,
And comfort there and here relief bestows:
But are they not dependants?--Foolish pride!
Am I not honour'd by such friend and guide?
Have I a home' (here Jesse dropp'd a tear),
'Or friend beside?'--A faithful friend was near.
Now Colin came, at length resolved to lay
His heart before her, and to urge her stay:
True, his own plough the gentle Colin drove,
An humble farmer with aspiring love;
Who, urged by passion, never dared till now,
Thus urged by fears, his trembling hopes avow:
Her father's glebe he managed; every year
The grateful Vicar held the youth more dear;
He saw indeed the prize in Colin's view,
And wish'd his Jesse with a man so true:
Timid as true, he urged with anxious air
His tender hope, and made the trembling prayer,
When Jesse saw, nor could with coldness see,
Such fond respect, such tried sincerity;

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
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The Hind And The Panther, A Poem In Three Parts : Part III.

Much malice, mingled with a little wit,
Perhaps may censure this mysterious writ;
Because the muse has peopled Caledon
With panthers, bears, and wolves, and beasts unknown,
As if we were not stocked with monsters of our own.
Let Æsop answer, who has set to view
Such kinds as Greece and Phrygia never knew;
And Mother Hubbard, in her homely dress,
Has sharply blamed a British lioness;
That queen, whose feast the factious rabble keep,
Exposed obscenely naked, and asleep.
Led by those great examples, may not I
The wonted organs of their words supply?
If men transact like brutes, 'tis equal then
For brutes to claim the privilege of men.
Others our Hind of folly will indite,
To entertain a dangerous guest by night.
Let those remember, that she cannot die,
Till rolling time is lost in round eternity;
Nor need she fear the Panther, though untamed,
Because the Lion's peace was now proclaimed;
The wary savage would not give offence,
To forfeit the protection of her prince;
But watched the time her vengeance to complete,
When all her furry sons in frequent senate met;
Meanwhile she quenched her fury at the flood,
And with a lenten salad cooled her blood.
Their commons, though but coarse, were nothing scant,
Nor did their minds an equal banquet want.
For now the Hind, whose noble nature strove
To express her plain simplicity of love,
Did all the honours of her house so well,
No sharp debates disturbed the friendly meal.
She turned the talk, avoiding that extreme,
To common dangers past, a sadly-pleasing theme;
Remembering every storm which tossed the state,
When both were objects of the public hate,
And dropt a tear betwixt for her own children's fate.
Nor failed she then a full review to make
Of what the Panther suffered for her sake;
Her lost esteem, her truth, her loyal care,
Her faith unshaken to an exiled heir,
Her strength to endure, her courage to defy,
Her choice of honourable infamy.
On these, prolixly thankful, she enlarged;
Then with acknowledgments herself she charged;
For friendship, of itself an holy tie,
Is made more sacred by adversity.
Now should they part, malicious tongues would say,
They met like chance companions on the way,

[...] Read more

poem by John Dryden
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Henry And Emma. A Poem.

Upon the Model of The Nut-Brown Maid. To Cloe.

Thou, to whose eyes I bend, at whose command
(Though low my voice, though artless be my hand.
I take the sprightly reed, and sing and play,
Careless of what the censuring world may say;
Bright Cloe! object of my constant vow,
Wilt thou a while unbend thy serious brow?
Wilt thou with pleasure hear thy lover's strains,
And with one heavenly smile o'erpay his pains?
No longer shall the Nut-brown Maid be old,
Though since her youth three hundred years have roll'd:
At thy desire she shall again be raised,
And her reviving charms in lasting verse be praised.

No longer man of woman shall complain,
That he may love and not be loved again;
That we in vain the fickle sex pursue,
Who change the constant lover for the new.
Whatever has been writ, whatever said
Henceforth shall in my verse refuted stand,
Be said to winds, or writ upon the sand:
And while my notes to future times proclaim
Unconquer'd love and ever-during flame,
O, fairest of the sex, be thou my muse;
Deign on my work thy influence to diffuse:
Let me partake the blessings I rehearse,
And grant me love, the just reward of verse.

As beauty's potent queen with every grace
That once was Emma's has adorn'd thy face,
And as her son has to my bosom dealt
That constant flame which faithful Henry felt,
O let the story with thy life agree,
Let men once more the bright example see;
What Emma was to him be thou to me:
Nor send me by thy frown from her I love,
Distant and sad, a banish'd man to rove:
But, oh! with pity long entreated crown
My pains and hopes: and when thou say'st that one
Of all mankind thou lovest, oh! think on me alone.

Where beauteous Isis and her husband Thame
With mingled waves for ever flow the same,
In times of yore an ancient baron lived,
Great gifts bestowed, and great respect received.

When dreadful Edward, with successful care
Led his free Britons to the Gallic war,

[...] Read more

poem by Matthew Prior
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Avon's Harvest

Fear, like a living fire that only death
Might one day cool, had now in Avon’s eyes
Been witness for so long of an invasion
That made of a gay friend whom we had known
Almost a memory, wore no other name
As yet for us than fear. Another man
Than Avon might have given to us at least
A futile opportunity for words
We might regret. But Avon, since it happened,
Fed with his unrevealing reticence
The fire of death we saw that horribly
Consumed him while he crumbled and said nothing.

So many a time had I been on the edge,
And off again, of a foremeasured fall
Into the darkness and discomfiture
Of his oblique rebuff, that finally
My silence honored his, holding itself
Away from a gratuitous intrusion
That likely would have widened a new distance
Already wide enough, if not so new.
But there are seeming parallels in space
That may converge in time; and so it was
I walked with Avon, fought and pondered with him,
While he made out a case for So-and-so,
Or slaughtered What’s-his-name in his old way,
With a new difference. Nothing in Avon lately
Was, or was ever again to be for us,
Like him that we remembered; and all the while
We saw that fire at work within his eyes
And had no glimpse of what was burning there.

So for a year it went; and so it went
For half another year—when, all at once,
At someone’s tinkling afternoon at home
I saw that in the eyes of Avon’s wife
The fire that I had met the day before
In his had found another living fuel.
To look at her and then to think of him,
And thereupon to contemplate the fall
Of a dim curtain over the dark end
Of a dark play, required of me no more
Clairvoyance than a man who cannot swim
Will exercise in seeing that his friend
Off shore will drown except he save himself.
To her I could say nothing, and to him
No more than tallied with a long belief
That I should only have it back again
For my chagrin to ruminate upon,
Ingloriously, for the still time it starved;

[...] Read more

poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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Paradise Lost: Book 09

No more of talk where God or Angel guest
With Man, as with his friend, familiar us'd,
To sit indulgent, and with him partake
Rural repast; permitting him the while
Venial discourse unblam'd. I now must change
Those notes to tragick; foul distrust, and breach
Disloyal on the part of Man, revolt,
And disobedience: on the part of Heaven
Now alienated, distance and distaste,
Anger and just rebuke, and judgement given,
That brought into this world a world of woe,
Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery
Death's harbinger: Sad talk!yet argument
Not less but more heroick than the wrath
Of stern Achilles on his foe pursued
Thrice fugitive about Troy wall; or rage
Of Turnus for Lavinia disespous'd;
Or Neptune's ire, or Juno's, that so long
Perplexed the Greek, and Cytherea's son:

If answerable style I can obtain
Of my celestial patroness, who deigns
Her nightly visitation unimplor'd,
And dictates to me slumbering; or inspires
Easy my unpremeditated verse:
Since first this subject for heroick song
Pleas'd me long choosing, and beginning late;
Not sedulous by nature to indite
Wars, hitherto the only argument
Heroick deem'd chief mastery to dissect
With long and tedious havock fabled knights
In battles feign'd; the better fortitude
Of patience and heroick martyrdom
Unsung; or to describe races and games,
Or tilting furniture, imblazon'd shields,
Impresses quaint, caparisons and steeds,
Bases and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights
At joust and tournament; then marshall'd feast
Serv'd up in hall with sewers and seneshals;
The skill of artifice or office mean,
Not that which justly gives heroick name
To person, or to poem. Me, of these
Nor skill'd nor studious, higher argument
Remains; sufficient of itself to raise
That name, unless an age too late, or cold
Climate, or years, damp my intended wing
Depress'd; and much they may, if all be mine,
Not hers, who brings it nightly to my ear.
The sun was sunk, and after him the star
Of Hesperus, whose office is to bring

[...] Read more

poem by John Milton
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Pharsalia - Book IX: Cato

Yet in those ashes on the Pharian shore,
In that small heap of dust, was not confined
So great a shade; but from the limbs half burnt
And narrow cell sprang forth and sought the sky
Where dwells the Thunderer. Black the space of air
Upreaching to the poles that bear on high
The constellations in their nightly round;
There 'twixt the orbit of the moon and earth
Abide those lofty spirits, half divine,
Who by their blameless lives and fire of soul
Are fit to tolerate the pure expanse
That bounds the lower ether: there shall dwell,
Where nor the monument encased in gold,
Nor richest incense, shall suffice to bring
The buried dead, in union with the spheres,
Pompeius' spirit. When with heavenly light
His soul was filled, first on the wandering stars
And fixed orbs he bent his wondering gaze;
Then saw what darkness veils our earthly day
And scorned the insults heaped upon his corse.
Next o'er Emathian plains he winged his flight,
And ruthless Caesar's standards, and the fleet
Tossed on the deep: in Brutus' blameless breast
Tarried awhile, and roused his angered soul
To reap the vengeance; last possessed the mind
Of haughty Cato.

He while yet the scales
Were poised and balanced, nor the war had given
The world its master, hating both the chiefs,
Had followed Magnus for the Senate's cause
And for his country: since Pharsalia's field
Ran red with carnage, now was all his heart
Bound to Pompeius. Rome in him received
Her guardian; a people's trembling limbs
He cherished with new hope and weapons gave
Back to the craven hands that cast them forth.
Nor yet for empire did he wage the war
Nor fearing slavery: nor in arms achieved
Aught for himself: freedom, since Magnus fell,
The aim of all his host. And lest the foe
In rapid course triumphant should collect
His scattered bands, he sought Corcyra's gulfs
Concealed, and thence in ships unnumbered bore
The fragments of the ruin wrought in Thrace.
Who in such mighty armament had thought
A routed army sailed upon the main
Thronging the sea with keels? Round Malea's cape
And Taenarus open to the shades below
And fair Cythera's isle, th' advancing fleet

[...] Read more

poem by Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
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Poison Heart

No one ever thought this one would survive
Helpless child, gonna walk a drum beat behind
Lock you in a dream, never let you go
Never let you laugh or smile, not you.
Well, I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart
I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart.
Making friends with a homeless torn up man
He just kind of smiles, it really shakes me up.
There's danger on every corner but I'm okay
Walking down the street trying to forget yesterday.
Well, I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart.
I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart,
a poison heart, a poison heart, a poison heart ... yeah!
You know that life really takes its toll
And a poet's gut reaction is to search his very soul
So much damn confusion before my eyes,
But nothing seems to phase me and this one still survives.
I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart.
I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart,
Well, I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart.
a poison heart, a poison heart, a poison heart.
a poison heart, a poison heart, a poison heart.

song performed by H.I.M.
Added by Lucian Velea
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Grateful

I carry you up in my arms
Hear you sing yourself to sleep
The sky opens up over your room
You sail into your moonlight dreams
Theres so much more than we can see
Theres so much more than we can see
All we are and all we need is
All we are and all we need is
All we are is all we need to be
Grateful, oh grateful
Grateful, oh grateful
I play this guitar, sing these songs
It changes me, instantly
Love is too simple a word
For here comes the sun in the morning
Suddenly happiness
Comes rolling out from inside me
All we are and all we need is
All we are and all we need is
All we are is all we need to be
Grateful, oh grateful
Grateful, oh grateful
I carry you up in my arms
Hear you sing yourself to sleep
The sky opens up over your room
You sail into your moonlight dreams
Theres so much more than we can see
Theres so much more than we can see
All we are and all we need is
All we are and all we need is
All we are is all we need to be
Grateful, oh grateful
Grateful, oh grateful
(all we are and all we need is)
(all we are and all we need is...)

song performed by Bangles
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Poison

Your cruel device
Your blood, like ice
One look could kill
My pain, your thrill
I want to love you but I better not
Touch (dont touch)
I want to hold you but my senses
Tell me to stop
I want to kiss you but I want it too
Much (too much)
I want to taste you but your lips
Are venomous poison
Youre poison running through my
Veins
Youre poison, I dont want to
Break these chains
Your mouth, so hot
Your web, Im caught
Your skin, so wet
Black lace on sweat
I hear you calling and its needles
And pins (and pins)
I want to hurt you just to hear you
Screaming my name
Dont want to touch you but
Youre under my skin (deep in)
I want to kiss you but your lips
Are venomous poison
Youre poison running through my veins
Youre poison, I dont wanna
Break these chains
Poison
One look could kill
My pain, your thrill
I want to love you but I better not
Touch (dont touch)
I want to hold you but my senses
Tell me to stop
I want to kiss you but I want it too
Much (too much)
I want to taste you but your lips
Are venomous poison
Youre poison running through my
Veins
Youre poison, I dont wanna
Break these chains
Poison
I want to love you but I better not
Touch (dont touch)
I want to hold you but my senses

[...] Read more

song performed by Alice Cooper
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Prince Of Darkness

Your cruel device
Your blood, like ice
One look could kill
My pain, your thrill
I want to love you but I better not
touch (Don't touch)
I want to hold you but my senses
tell me to stop
I want to kiss you but I want it too
much (Too much)
I want to taste you but your lips
are venomous poison
You're poison running through my
veins
You're poison, I don't want to
break these chains
Your mouth, so hot
Your web, I'm caught
Your skin, so wet
Black lace on sweat
I hear you calling and it's needles
and pins (And pins)
I want to hurt you just to hear you
screaming my name
Don't want to touch you but
You're under my skin (Deep in)
I want to kiss you but your lips
are venomous poison
You're poison running through my veins
You're poison, I don't wanna
break these chains
Poison
One look could kill
My pain, your thrill
I want to love you but I better not
touch (Don't touch)
I want to hold you but my senses
tell me to stop
I want to kiss you but I want it too
much (Too much)
I want to taste you but your lips
are venomous poison
You're poison running through my
veins
You're poison, I don't wanna
break these chains
Poison
I want to love you but I better not
touch (Don't touch)
I want to hold you but my senses

[...] Read more

song performed by Alice Cooper
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VII. Pompilia

I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.

All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.

Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Poison! Poison!

Poison I breathe, poison I eat,
And poison poison I do drink,
Poison are my thoughts, poison are my acts,
Poison are my sleeps, poison are my dreams,
My blood is poison, poison is my flesh,
And poison poison are my bones.

Wherever I move
I envenom my fellow beings,
And enlarge my kingdom,
This is how my life goes on,
Living in the world: all poison poison.

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Canto the First

I
I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one,
Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant,
The age discovers he is not the true one;
Of such as these I should not care to vaunt,
I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan—
We all have seen him, in the pantomime,
Sent to the devil somewhat ere his time.

II
Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke,
Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe,
Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk,
And fill'd their sign posts then, like Wellesley now;
Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs stalk,
Followers of fame, "nine farrow" of that sow:
France, too, had Buonaparté and Dumourier
Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier.

III
Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau,
Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,
Were French, and famous people, as we know:
And there were others, scarce forgotten yet,
Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau,
With many of the military set,
Exceedingly remarkable at times,
But not at all adapted to my rhymes.

IV
Nelson was once Britannia's god of war,
And still should be so, but the tide is turn'd;
There's no more to be said of Trafalgar,
'T is with our hero quietly inurn'd;
Because the army's grown more popular,
At which the naval people are concern'd;
Besides, the prince is all for the land-service,
Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis.

V
Brave men were living before Agamemnon
And since, exceeding valorous and sage,
A good deal like him too, though quite the same none;
But then they shone not on the poet's page,
And so have been forgotten:—I condemn none,
But can't find any in the present age
Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one);
So, as I said, I'll take my friend Don Juan.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
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Joy & Pain

Heaven aint your place girl , not now anyways
And in this hell yeah yeah , you cant erase
All of the pain , that youve been given
That aint the reason yeah , that youve been driven
Watch the hand as its movin ,
24 times around
Every seconds like a minute ,
Till youre back on the ground
Ive felt joy and Ive felt pain (girl Im sorry)
Ive felt joy and Ive felt pain (girl Im sorry)
Ive felt joy and Ive felt pain (girl Im sorry)
But I know Im gonna see you again
Girl we had our chances , we knew from the start
That we could take heaven yeah and tear it apart tear it apart
You gotta take a chance girl , you gotta lead me by the hand
And turn this wild one , into a family man..come on
Many miles been between us since I walked away
Girl Im sorry what I did to you , this time Im here to stay
Ive felt joy and Ive felt pain (girl Im sorry)
Ive felt joy and Ive felt pain (girl Im sorry)
Ive felt joy and Ive felt pain (girl Im sorry)
But I know baby Im gonna see you again
But I know yeah
Ive felt pain Ive felt joy yeah
Heaven aint your place girl , not now anyways
And in this hell yeah yeah , you cant erase
All of the pain , that youve been given
That aint the reason yeah , that youve been driven
Watch the hand as its movin ,
24 times around
Every seconds like a minute ,
Till youre back on the ground
Ive felt joy and Ive felt pain (and the girls say)
Ive felt joy and Ive felt pain (and the girls say)
Ive felt joy and Ive felt pain (girl Im sorry)
Ive felt joy and Ive felt pain (girl Im sorry [x3])
But I know Im gonna see you again

song performed by Ronan Keating
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tale XXI

The Learned Boy

An honest man was Farmer Jones, and true;
He did by all as all by him should do;
Grave, cautious, careful, fond of gain was he,
Yet famed for rustic hospitality:
Left with his children in a widow'd state,
The quiet man submitted to his fate;
Though prudent matrons waited for his call,
With cool forbearance he avoided all;
Though each profess'd a pure maternal joy,
By kind attention to his feeble boy;
And though a friendly Widow knew no rest,
Whilst neighbour Jones was lonely and distress'd;
Nay, though the maidens spoke in tender tone
Their hearts' concern to see him left alone,
Jones still persisted in that cheerless life,
As if 'twere sin to take a second wife.
Oh! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead,
To find such numbers who will serve instead;
And in whatever state a man be thrown,
'Tis that precisely they would wish their own;
Left the departed infants--then their joy
Is to sustain each lovely girl and boy:
Whatever calling his, whatever trade,
To that their chief attention has been paid;
His happy taste in all things they approve,
His friends they honour, and his food they love;
His wish for order, prudence in affairs,
An equal temper (thank their stars!), are theirs;
In fact, it seem'd to be a thing decreed,
And fix'd as fate, that marriage must succeed:
Yet some, like Jones, with stubborn hearts and

hard,
Can hear such claims and show them no regard.
Soon as our Farmer, like a general, found
By what strong foes he was encompass'd round,
Engage he dared not, and he could not fly,
But saw his hope in gentle parley lie;
With looks of kindness then, and trembling heart,
He met the foe, and art opposed to art.
Now spoke that foe insidious--gentle tones,
And gentle looks, assumed for Farmer Jones:
'Three girls,' the Widow cried, 'a lively three
To govern well--indeed it cannot be.'
'Yes,' he replied, 'it calls for pains and care:
But I must bear it.'--'Sir, you cannot bear;
Your son is weak, and asks a mother's eye:'
'That, my kind friend, a father's may supply.'

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
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With Rose In Hand

Prayer is worth more than a rose
in my hand where love grows
for God and all he knows
The rose has a thorn
which Jesus felt on the crown he had worn.
the rose is red as the blood from his head
when he was crucifed before we were born.

[...] Read more

poem by Meg Harrison
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Born In The 50s

We were born
Born in the fifties
My mother cried
When president kennedy died
She said it was the communists
But I knew better
Would they drop the bomb on us
While we made love on the beach
We were the class they couldnt teach
cos we knew better
We were born
Born in the fifties
They screamed
When the beatles sang
And they laughed when the king fell down the stars
O they shouldve known better
O we hated our aunt
Then we messed in our pants
Then we lost our faith and prayed to the tv
O we shouldve known better
We were born
Born in the fifties
We freeze like statues on the pages of history
Living was never like this when we took all those gces
O you opened the door for us
And then you turned to dust
You dont understand us
So dont reprimand us
Were taking the future
We dont need no teacher
We were born
Born in the fifties

song performed by Police
Added by Lucian Velea
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Poison Girl

I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love's heart is death
For me and my poison girl
A prey she was for the cruelty of love
While its serpent inside crawled straight towards her heart
The coldest kiss love ceased to exist
While we grew apart like never before
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love wants us dead
Just me and my poison girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love's heart is death
For me and my poison girl
The fire in her eyes
Grew dim and then died
As the poison inside
Reached her heart
And the coldest kiss
Faith ceased to exist
As we grew apart
Like never before
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love wants us dead
Just me and my poison girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love's heart is death
For me and my poison girl
And the taste of the poison on her lips is of a tomb
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love wants us dead
Just me and my poison girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love's heart is death
For me and my poison girl
Poison girl (4x)
And love's heart is death
For me and my poison girl
In this poison world

song performed by H.I.M.
Added by Lucian Velea
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Poison Girl

I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And loves heart is death
For me and my poison girl
A prey she was for the cruelty of love
While its serpent inside crawled straight towards her heart
The coldest kiss love ceased to exist
While we grew apart like never before
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love wants us dead
Just me and my poison girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And loves heart is death
For me and my poison girl
The fire in her eyes
Grew dim and then died
As the poison inside
Reached her heart
And the coldest kiss
Faith ceased to exist
As we grew apart
Like never before
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love wants us dead
Just me and my poison girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And loves heart is death
For me and my poison girl
And the taste of the poison on her lips is of a tomb
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love wants us dead
Just me and my poison girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And loves heart is death
For me and my poison girl
Poison girl (4x)
And loves heart is death
For me and my poison girl
In this poison world

song performed by H.i.m. (his Infernal Majesty)
Added by Lucian Velea
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Bleed My Disease

You suck the life from my skull, creating my disease
Taking this life you did not own, is that what I need
No indication, moral implication, chained by hand and knee
More satisfaction through your elevation, now do you want to hear me breathe
Hear me breathe
Hear me breathe
Hear me please
Bleed my disease
Drink the poison and my world, slowly sinks into
A helpless state of mind, as Im giving in to you
This poison takes my life, and leaves me at her will
I sit with you in silence, remaining perfectly, perfectly still
Licking you hand of affliction, infecting me with your sin
Erecting your fist through my soul, awaiting for you to begin
Carnal fashion of our perversion, Im a dog who will beg and plea
Limitations of your orgasmic sensation, but youll turn it on to see me bleed
See me bleed
See me bleed
See me bleed
Bleed my disease
Drink the poison and my world, slowly sinks into
A helpless state of mind, as Im giving in to you
This poison takes my life, and leaves me at her will
I sit with you in silence, remaining perfectly still
Bleed
Bleed for me
Drink the poison and my world, slowly sinks into
A helpless state of mind, as Im giving in to you
This poison takes my life, and leaves me at her will
I sit with you in silence, remaining perfectly still
Drink the poison
Drink the poison and my world
Drink the poison
Slowly sinks in to
Drink the poison
Drink the poison and my world
Drink the poison
Slowly sinks in to

song performed by Uranium 235
Added by Lucian Velea
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