What beauty thy betrayal is unknown more, And deceit: friendship not I rather know, With both, I have known qualms and to abhor, But both, I am not without my share bestowed. How indifferent such my deceit has been And such deceit against me twice the knife, Moreso my back has known the pierce atwin For betrayal has not yet seen me out my life. But then, I would not life without these knives, For scarred my back has known what daggers must Admit these twins accursèd in our lives: Without, there is no beauty in one’s trust. I would my scars to never be unmade Unless I seek my back anew betrayed.