Palace prison that is my soul, rivers of blood run from its core;
Collecting in a pool of rum, turning that amber fire red with blood;
Causing nosy bastards to oooh and ahhh, for their eyes and souls have neither seen nor known the magik of a dark abode;
Taste of the red rum if you must, but in your heart it will become an amber stone of blood and flame;
The tears you know not why you shed, they flow because you feel my pain and shame…
Blood of my Beloved 