I, the weary damsel, cry
sequestered in my cage
forsaken for a prettier bride
for one of lesser age

I, abandoned lover, weep
alone and still I'm mocked
Their whispers find me in my sleep
although my cell is locked

I, forlorn adorer, mourn
my tortured years of trust
lurch about my haggard form
but stir up only dust

I, in darkened exile, wait
to hear the tears of loss
as one more meets her lonely fate
banished to this albatross

I, the cursed widow, pray
to heaven, hell, or fates
to drive the maidens far away
preserve them from these gates

They only lead to bitter pain
They only lead to hate