My unlucky Emmaline
Whose heart is faded red
On blackened, virgin paper
In your letters how I read.
Written with your blood
And ink a faded black.
And honeyed the lies
That spilled past my lips
Into melancholy dreams
My unforgiving Emmaline
Your letters how I read.
Could see the movement of your hand
Trailing over stains
Unforgotten shadows
Deemed forsaken in our lust.
And missed the winsome whispers
The shadows spoke to us?
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