Was I not good?
Was I not true?
Did I not give you all I could?
I bore you sons
born in blood,
you can't blame me what pleases God!
You call me "witch"
you speak of sin,
but it is you who is foul within
And all that love
has turned to rust
apon the blade that cuts through us
And when my petals fade their red,
will you pluck my weeping head?
Or will you love me till the end?
your only Winter rose?
Oh Lord have mercy on me,
to God I commend my soul
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