Porcelain

Thomas

There goes my Beloved, leaving my sights;

She was mine and now never again.

Once her voice got me through the night,

Now her voice makes me the saddest I've ever been...

If not for her disGrace,

We would have been eternal

But not with this look upon her face,

So delicate yet so dull.

But, Dear, you've lost all your virtue,

Just know that I never meant to hurt you

Beloved