What can there be not to choose?
For love of both he shall lose.
Love from a lady who owns his jewels.
Love from a lady who owns this fool's heart.

At a party they laid,
Their souls were merged.
At the waters they spoke,
Their hearts beat accord.

The choice of her body,
The loss of his heart.
The choice of her touch,
The loss of her press.

The decision has been made,
Should've been done before they met.
Surely he'll break one's heart,
But she has broken his more than naught.

The love of her touch,
Is all that he can feel.
The taste of her kiss,
Is all that he can taste.

This soul-less fool,
Proclaims for his love.
He'll get his cool,
But now all he can hold is his dove.

To Laurella...

Penned by my hand on the 1st of Lupar, in the year 281 AF.