Again, pierce my heart with your arrow's gaze,
Then meet my eyes, make me a martyr in the haze.
Let me writhe and tremble, pain surge and ignite,
Such mercy grant, O executioner of night.
May your tavern's glory ever bloom,
And the cup's honor swell, dispelling gloom.
O, you with eyes alight, my tipsy grace,
Fill the cup of madness, leave me lost in space.
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