My love for her went past death.... |
The sun is rising inevitable as all tragedy but No! I will be with her before it has arisen just as promised will take place she had been walking through woods in moonlit splendor Picking roses in all of her candor and singing a rhyme she had concocted of my promise of the consumption of our love that very night and the creatures of the night watched aghast At her beauty unsurpassed And of her solemnity As if she knew what was to become of her The whispering wind ran cruel fingers through her hair Pitch black matched the tone of that very night but the moon was high and all was alight but she never saw them it’s very strange witch that she was no premonition came and they robbed her with there holy verses of the virgin nymph she used to be Called her a whore with prejudice screamed And she took it all with silent tears fearful of why it was And then it was all over the pain ended in a flash of taffeta pink All I had was robbed from me not only had they taken her they raped me in my mind there was no peace I found them attempting to hide their wrong but they would not leave without judgment No holy light came to them So I took matters into my own hands... And here I am laying with my love And she still sings the same sorrowful eulogy And I have my knife With Christian blood still running down it It now has mine And now I see her she’s not dead but surely alive And we are together Fingers interlaced In a wondrous ominous place Where love can’t keep us apart Nor can heaven’s fear And nothing matters but dead love’s tragic embrace |