Piercing instances of what I well-know
Surface like oil paintings on my heart
The scent is distinct; the colors, they show
Foolish love cannot steal what makes me smart
For you are not love and I am no fool
I have spun before the web of remorse
No picture will float in my soul’s sweet pool
If you should drown it is not of my force
Fate is he who builds on this betrayal
That paints a heavenly scene from above
But no one can escape a truth’s wail
It will smear the oil and forget love
I pray that you will paint no thing for me
Then we will know whether true love can be
