I hope my soul lets yours know no peace.

To your demands and pleas, I’ll never appease.

For my illness, no cure nor panacea be pieced.

I hope you ponder how I’d be pleased,

but I’d never let you to my joy a piece.

My cruelty and mischief never be policed,

My attention, your looks have never piqued.

May words of brutatlity sooner or later peak,

so you leave, without a glance back or peek.