• In the depth of night,
    a Lady suffered,
    taking the choice,
    to draw her last breath,

    With poisoned wine,
    and a last hot bath,
    she fled from her body,
    forgetting all else.

    But who should step in,
    but the daring knight,
    who cried out on sight,
    "Oh what has she done?"

    And seeing her lips,
    ruby red on ivory,
    he made the choice,
    to stay for eternity.

    Bending over,
    tasting the wine,
    his last breath left,
    in a single line.

    And as he felt death,
    it's grip tightening,
    he gasped out for her,
    in promise or curse.

    Suicide is my favorite drink.