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Brynhilda's Curse
My hatred burns like the fire of my love.
Betrayer....
Does her golden hair compare?
Is her touch so sweet...
to make you betray the vows that were given?
My love you have turned
supple hands to claws of vengeance;
warm smiles to a mask of ice.
My love you have filled
bright eyes with raging tears;
and love to seething hate.
If only I could stop loving you...
perhaps this fury would subside?
But you are my curse!
The bane of my blood
and the fire of my passion;
and I am lost in the venom that courses through my blood;
pumps through my aching heart and wrenches my stomach with bile.
I will see you dead! as dead as I am now...
and in your death I will claim you as my own.
I will climb into the flames, cover your body with mine,
and finally be.....consumed!
© 2006 Matilda Marks
Image:
Victor R. Lamblin