The shining sun of gold and coral beams
Lays bare intentions not been seen before
Perverse in honest ways and morals clean
Are you, whose soul has been unjustly whored
Fair one, to whom I gave my weak, small heart
Naught definite, Oh! what shall happen now?
For you have since torn the red string apart
By your deceitful deeds and wicked vows
Corrupted is your lovely soul once pure
I cannot see the white, for black will reign
Of this decision, I am rightly sure
A chaste bloom will not flower free again
But still, I shall sit in a peaceful wait
‘Til morning breaks clear on advent of fate