The blood burns,
As the heart churns,
And the deadly poison of love fills my veins.
Got this warm feeling when I think of you,
Have this little passion when I speak with you,
And I fear it may be fatal for me.
Flowers and insects in my stomach jump,
A feeling with which I cannot cope,
The lovebug bites, my dearest mind.
Cupido has send his arrow flying,
Impaled me on his sharpest stake,
And piereced me in my sof…
- Analysis of the Poem "My Voice" by Sir Oscar Wilde
- Poem "Better Life"
- Poem: Convulsions
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