Death's Mistress

A sea of tears I ne'er did see
But such that leapt from out of thee.
Those auburn jewels that dorn thine head
Doth water when thou's new lover is said.
A touch of comfort, a passionate tear,
Nothing do to cleanse your fear
Of losing that which was never yours,
Of losing another that that your heart now adores,
Of laying him down beside the graves
Of others who have played this fatal game, and lost
The little that they did possess.
Their heart to you, their soul to Death.
And you, object lost along with quest,
Wait upon the earth with baited breath
To draw more men into your trap
And kill another slowly.