Never have I encountered such a plight
In which my heart contradicts its morals.
Her skin is dun, while mine is fairly light
In an era where mixing spark quarrels.
On her scalp, grows black and feeble wires
Which are accompanied by her stout lips.
Excruciating love I desire
Though I’m her Master, it’s my heart she whips.
In the palm of my hands her freedom lays.
Under her fist is where my heart settles.
If I then let her fly, what might she say?
That “The darkness and the light can’t meddle.”
I love her so; perhaps I’ll set her free.
I love her so; I want her all to me.