By C.S. Henrys

The Patron Saint of Forlorn Lovers

Valentine, I knew you not—

Know you’ll not be soon forgot—

For if I deign to leave you soon,

Then myself I’ve offered for his boon.


Come one, come all, and see revenge—

It is my love that I avenge!

If love is true, and love is pure,

Hope that my aim is just as sure.


Valentine! In burning places

Your features bleeding familiar faces;

Oft must I remember you strongly,

Lest I think my vendetta’s made wrongly.


Come one, come all, be quenched in the fire!

It is a thousand wicked men which I desire!

I quaff of their life, and quaff of their love—

I am the Archangel—I strike from above!


Valentine? Do you remember this creature?

Your memories sundered, your eyes without feature.



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