Dance of Rage

The nymph that graces my salty lips,
The love that makes my eyes hard and dry,
A fist of iron, around my cavern, grips,

The countless screams of fire's sigh,
The dancing tower dealing cards of fear,
The light that streaks across the sky,

The proud tree sways and tears,
The arrow's shaft has been lost,
The head, in my belly it appears,

Rage at me, spare me no cost,
Nothing can pry me from my love,
Yet on the shore, I have been tossed.