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.
