ꨄ 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑ꨄ

XL

If the love within my heart

were then to bloom the knight of whom

shall I belong for e'er to,

tears within my eyes there well,

as her head begins to rest

over my chest, planting her kiss

a surge of tears then they now fell,

because her body then lies limp,

as then I shall

submerge her corpse

into the grave where she then lies,

as maggots then they now wrought

against her that once had

held her love for me-

as her scent, sweet and soft,

trickles away between my fingers.

Losing her, bit by bit.

The raindrops fall,

by her cracked tomb,

as her flowers slowly die,

with their withered sour scents,

that drench the ashen floor that-

her sweet laugh once softly dappled.

Soft be her voice,

that once gilded the land,

now wasted,

to a grave of rotten souls.

Yet be it wasted,

for what was her glow,

without this darkness?

The darkness that haunts

in her absence.

Rather be it for to-

be blinded by her glow,

or shrouded in this pain-

once wrapped in her scent?