Sickness from The Harpy's Love

Oh what a sharp grip she has!
More painful than losing a bass.
Her smell is quite putrid!
I say it's very lucid.
In bed, she is no lover!
In the air, she barely hovers.
I wish she was dead!
Just cut off her head.
I am most hurt by this!
She is scarier than a hiss.
Oh save me, dearly loved!
Let us fly away, like a dove.
Category:Safe
Category:Poems
Category:Complete
Category:Burger's Stories