Though pitious king or prosperous begger
I shall always love you best, above all.
You, who's bidding I cherish most
I shall follow with unbidden desire.
And if I do wrong, through fortune, or deed
Your forgiveness I emplore
Your pleasure I explore.
For loneliness is hell
A spirlaling madness of dark and cold and silence.
A black stone cell that towers over me.
But with womanly grace you bestow upon me
in your bed, a place that I find peace.
by RavenLoft
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