Pity me, for I have killed you
Do not hate me; do not remember my name with loathing
For I have loved
And I have lost that love, and thus will myself to die

It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all
But is that true?
I doubt he had experienced love at all
All its pains
All its triumphs
All its happiness
All its failures

She was beautiful
Eyes of deepest gems
Hair of blackest night
Skin of rosy cream
And I loved her

That love led to death
And she gasped her last breath
All because I couldn't confess
All because I wouldn't confess

Pity me, for I have killed you
Do not hate me; do not remember my name with loathing
For I had love in its purity, in it goodness
In its filth and wickedness
And wasn't there to tell of my secret love as she slept

Pity me, for I have killed you
Do not hate me; do not say my name with scorn
For I had a soul and emotion
Only to feel both die away with her last breath

Pity me, for I have killed you
I have put you through endless suffering and pain
But soon I will join you
As I wait for Death to come and take me
As I wipe the last remaining tears from my eyes
I will stand proud as I meet him
I will grovel at her feet when I come across her
Pity me, for I have killed you
And soon I follow
My poor, poor heart