This is my Eastern Border
where sun will peak over my breast
and for this sin split me asunder.

I fled Athena upon his sight,
denouncing her rich splendor
for quick passion of this Rynadine.

Cooing and kissing my virgin brow,
his ardent hands did brush my heart—
and ‘ere in my passionate ease did steal it away.

Oh how this hole gapes!
Open and yet bleeding,
bullet shot straight through.

Now I have naught left to give
but withered body,
and death pale soul.

Neither will do for the pure beauty
which now before me lay—
I am yet chained these foul arms.

Love Talker and his cruel games,
I’d spite the day he damned me hence,
If I’d left a heart with which to care.