I swore to love you ’til you died,
But if you will not love me,
I swear that I will kill you;
I will be the first to tear
That ungrateful heart from that worthless chest
And, weeping, feed it to your whining dogs,
And laughing burn your sullied corpse
On a bier of rosewood and willow.
Smiling I will spit on the cooling ashes,
Miserably I’ll watch my saliva steam.
I swear that I’ll defile thee
If you refuse to love me.
A rather unusual contrast, I believe. Of course, I do not encourage anybody to do anything after line 2.
The Hapless Neo-Romantic