My neck has festered
on this guillotine,
my lips are rotted,
Lipsticked gangrene

They bind my wrists,
my ankles tie,
They break my bones
and blind my eyes.

"Wait!" I cry,
"What was my crime?
Was it caused by this foolish
Heart of mine?"

But alas, too late!
The blade descends -
my life had hardly begun
Before its end

There's one truth of Justice
That I know of -
She does not exist
in war or in Love.