Hell's fury hath desire,
Burning high as a funeral pyre.
But alas 'tis reborn,
In the eye of a woman's scorn.
And in the breath of Satan's last,
His love has turned to putrid ash.
But her blue eyes his love for long,
The echo of his horrid wrong.
He admits to no one still,
The hatred of that earthly thrill.
And ne'er again shall he see,
She who's lover he
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