By gentle moon, most tender light
A quiet gaze between two lovers
I, three score, my partner seven above
The beauty she possesses! A witch
that curses my soul, she who holds me
and turns our quarrels into wars of rebels
O, what I could give for a king for us!
As love is true, our blood can boil
in, outside of our chambers many locks
This witch has one true silver, a poison
(Though it gives me no pleasure, alas)
The small mounds of her, where fairies
plucked flesh, for the mouths of babes
The touch of all peasants and lords
shall spiral into a little death
We lovers, in bed early morn,
and my horns begin to grow
We two are both dispositioned
For equal pleasure and pain upon
each other's warm bodies, (as is love)
Now, O, for a muse of both love and war
For as my devil'd hand touched her
she herself becomes my equal!
Wicked! Vile! Upon your last thought
May you find your accursed flesh
torn apart by Hell's frozen winds
amongst dead queens of the Nile
and virgin trophies of war!
I ask, timid, are you certain?
Alas, her anger again grows
Begone! Begone! Leave me be forever!
Or keep Mammon away from your digits
And allow me rest
Words, like poison for my skull and tongue
Falsehoods, yes, wrapped in anger, though
a fury from passion that's familiar
Now, I seek comfort and truth, from
An immortal and fair council
Please, for now, tell me my true fault
Reddit, am I the asshole here?