Dark, dank, no hope for escape;

I see her shudder, and his mouth gape.

What do they think of my hidey-hole?

I look at their faces, and I think them droll.

She looks at me with dismay;

Daroga, you wish me far away.

The fop still resembles a donkey's hind end;

What do you think, Daroga, my friend?

What should I do about Christine?

All she ever called me was "Fiend".

And what of her lover, the milk-blooded twit?

Should I check to make sure that the lasso would fit?

All I ever wanted I could never attain;

All my attempts now seem in vain.

Christine still is repulsed by me,

And wonders if she will ever get free.

"Has this monster yet to hurt her?"

Is what I hear the fop whisper.

I snarl; she cowers and cries.

She's still confused about my lies.

Perhaps I should let them go.

But my heart could not take such a massive blow!

Yet, I love her too much to let her stay,

But, the fop insulted me; he must pay!

Maybe it's mercy I ought to show,

To prove to her I'm really not that low.

And maybe then she will say

Those words I've wanted to hear every day.