Why dost thou give Thy best,Capulets and Montagues,
when Thou knowest of my unyielding unrest?
As my pen-name
and Janet go asunder,
dost thou still cherish me
as the crooked son shall rise?
Why dost thou still care for me
in my ol BlackFlagrant disguise?
And how dost thou depart our lifelong demise??
With my barbaric knowledge
and your entire Sonlight??
By what pyrric cost,
my lovely, lovely poppyhead,
didst we conceive this whorefrost?
Called, indeed, 'the Death Adjacent' -
where Almighty God's the smith...
and I am the anvil ...??
Hold me tight, honeybun,
and never let me go;
for as long as the night
till this immortal son rises slow.