The Mourning BladeThe crimson river that flows to be shedWhy oh why did one endith up so deadMy blade has ended a foe that we dreadOh Capulet I fear my blood be bledTherefore, I protect what is dearest meAnd dearest me is the life of masterI wish him not to be ate by the seaThou hope this not to be a disaster Capulet I wish thee to accept thisNot as a hatred but as a sorrowRomeo has not spilt more than a listWe can both look forward to tomorrowFor Montague and Capulet let beLet eyes be open and finally see