'Tis the night;
The night she will die.
It's time for death to bite;
The end of her life is nigh.
It's scary, we all know.
She's not ready to leave yet.
The fear in her eyes show.
She's drenched in sweat.
Her bones begin to rattle.
A twinge of fear shoots throughout her soul.
She's not ready to fight this battle.
She feels the hot smoke coming up from the coal.
The smoke burns her lungs.
The fire creeps ever closer.
Her enemies speak in tongues.
The one she thought was her friend was simply a poser.
Her eyes close as she awaits her fate.
A scream of pain leaves her lips as the flames engulf her.
Her saviour comes. Alas, they are too late.
Her final memories flash before her eyes in a blur.
Finally, her end is here.
Her saviour falls to his knees, wailing in despair.
It's time to forever disappear.
Her absence is something he cannot bare.
Her last breath has been taken.
Her body is now a pile of ash.
His heart is breakin'.
Upon the ground, his blood does splash.
A sword has been lunged through his broken heart.
Blood spurts from his mouth in a burst of red.
They tear the sword out, ripping his chest apart.
Now he, too, is dead.
The traitor who turned her in kneels down next to his corpse with remorse.
His chest tightens with regret.
A proper burial, he does enforce.
His betrayal, he will never forget.
After the men leave, he places her ashes inside an urn.
He drags the corpse of her saviour into a casket and places her urn by his side.
The man filled with regret has decided to bury her and her failed saviour near the great fern.
Into the afterlife, they both now ride.
Unbeknownst to him, she has been condemned.
Her life of witchcraft requires punishment worse than death.
Her very existence was fremd.
Though, the world died a little when she took her last breath.
She's trapped in hell for the usage of magic.
Her saviour is not there to accompany her.
She thinks the possibility of escape is daft.
Perhaps, her means of escape, shall be a douceur.
She found an old witch who knew of a way back to the land of the living.
She could not say no to such an offer.
The key to her escape, she was giving;
But only if she could find the coffer.
She searched and searched for her escape.
She grew less hopeful the longer she spent searching.
A shiver, she soon felt, upon her nape.
A figure, in the distance, she spotted lurching.
The old witch whispered into her ear;
"To receive the key, you must kill the wanderer."
In her hand, she conjured a spear.
"You must become the conquerer."
She bit her lip at her spiteful words.
Never before had she killed an innocent life.
She had expected the key to be in old shards.
With a sigh, she took the end of the spear and held it like a knife.
To be with her love, she would do anything.
The lurching figure came to a stop.
Her hand was shaking, she was lingering.
The old witch made it easier for her by causing the wanderer's body to drop.
She walked towards the body, millions of thoughts racing through her head.
The wanderer looked up at her with dead eyes.
Her chest began to feel with dread.
"Kill them." The witch whispered. "They were always meant for the flies."
She held the end of the spear above their heart.
"Cut it out. The key lies within."
From their chest, their heart did apart.
She held the bloody heart within the palm of her hand and the old witch's lips curled into a gruesome grin.
"Now that you hold their heart, tear it open."
She tore the once beating organ apart and found a small key.
To her dismay, the end of the key seemed to be broken.
"Old witch, please tell me there is more to my escape than this broken key." She did plea.
The witch took the key from her and snapped it in half.
Her mouth fell agape with disbelief.
At her reaction, she let out a laugh.
"There is a potion inside this tiny key. Come drink it and you will return to the land of the living, little thief."
She took the key from her and downed the liquid.
As soon as it went down her throat, her blood began to boil.
Her throat closed up, she felt constricted.
Her mind was in turmoil.
The witch found her confusion to be quite amusing.
"Relax, my dear. The way the key works is by killing you all over again!"
Once more, her life she will be losing.
She tried to fight her demise, but it was in vain.
Her eyes closed and she fell to the ground.
The witch made sure she was 'dead' before she lied her body upon a table.
To the table, she was bound.
To 'live' in the land of the living, she must make her body stable.
Soon, she did awaken.
She tried to sit up, only to find that she was in a coffin with the corpse of the man she loved.
She now seemed to be forsaken.
The lid of the coffin, she shoved.
She dug her way out of the ground.
She pulled the corpse out along with her and drug his body to an old mausoleum.
She entered the forgotten building without making a sound.
It was now the time to bring her love back to life and see him.
She lied him down and set up candles around him.
She lit the candles and began her spell.
The room grew dim;
She conjured up the powers of hell.
She spoke in witch tongue.
His body began to twitch.
His strings of fate were unstrung.
His body, she did bewitch.
Soon, his turquoise eyes snapped open.
"Hello, my love. I am back from the dead and I have given you new life."
He smiled. "With you next to my side once more, my heart will no longer be broken."
She caressed his cheek. "Let us leave and live some place where there will be no strife."
Alas, this could not happen;
For this was only a dream.
Her only means of torture was her passion;
The old witch's lie was the perfect scheme.
She was in hell;
Condemned to an eternity of torture.
Her demise, she would never quell;
There would be no order.
The witch was gone;
Her saviour had failed.
No longer will she see the dawn;
No longer will the sweet scent of freshly fallen rain be inhaled.
It is the end;
Both for her and her love.
Time together, they will no longer spend;
Life, they will forever be unworthy of.
