Thou are fruit on a wealthy tree,
Having access to the best of etiquette.
But thee chose a boat which was vile,
In the ocean that we call life.
Seek a mirror and look into it,
And then enjoy a stare to mine face.
For then thee shall see your blunder,
Of not drinking thy house’s water.
Thou say thee will treat me like a fairy,
Like a rose and heather divine.
But speak with thy heart,
Do thee know even the essence of beauty and allure!
Thy habits make thee disrespected,
With thy poor manner and untidy fashion.
Better refine thy ways, son of the nobility,
Otherwise your own clan shall call you the damned.
Now Edoardo was feeling shaken and distressed acute,
Entwined in the vines from seeds he hath sown,
The woman he desired hath schooled him so hard,
That suicide was looked at with a curious regard.
The stony rebuke hath done its work,
But hath gone stray from it’s purpose,
For now Edoardo eyes for Emiliana hath changed,
The episode yielding an emotion acute cold.
Shaken by her opinion of him,
And traumatized by the her dark scold,
He now scorned the charming damsel,
The apple of his eye was now a thorn.
Fueled by the pain and dark hate,
He now framed vicious plots,
Thinking how to end her life
And avenge his bitter insult.
The ill fated day was finally born,
With a windy and chilling morn.
He stabbed her right into the heart,
All she could say was, “pour quoi?”.