He Loves me? He loves me not?

I wrote this one in ode to the lost lovers in my life

She flies by the moon’s light, her destination unknown.

Looking, searching, longing for his love.

She can feel his essence as if it were her own aurora.

She calls for him, with such pain and intensity.

She hears not her lover’s whisper, only the silence of the night.

The time when loneliness is at a heightened peak.

Loneliness will produce a single tear

A single tear falls to the earth

From a single tear grows a black rose

Just like the black roses of the past.

She will repeat the words so often wondered.

He loves me? He loves me not? He loves me? He loves me not?