"Just try it," she said,
Who was I to refuse?
A little poison in each drink,
The flesh dies with each sip.

"You've had not nearly enough,"
She smiled, looking to me.
My eyes have become hazy,
And I can't make her out.

Where she was sitting,
I see only a serpent..
Form weaving, tongue flickering,
Her eyes hold no warmth.

The fangs drip,
From the poison i'll take later.
The why escapes,
From my numbed mind.

The lying serpent,Seduces me so,Resting in the fog,On a large red
throne.*quit

Penned by my hand on the 3rd of Ferinus, in the year 437 AD.