In his princely state

Wounded heart and tortured soul.

She wipes his lips

Of the deadly kiss she stole.

Leaves him on a throne

Despair has claimed to be cold.

She sees the foretelling smile

And the tears turned to ice,

Upon his cheeks struck so white.

Hates him now, as his stare

Narrow, cold, and upon the floor;

She no longer sees her beauty to praise

Only the stench of death does he raise.

In his princely state

His life spilled on the floor

Her madness damned them both at the door.

As she kissed him so from lips,

To cheek, and brow in an anxious state.

And in the tide and transparent state

Pouts and weeps at her loss

And bequeaths her life

To that pool of sorrow

Under the throne

Despair claimed so cold.