Lie, My darling quiet, stilled
In thy tainted Elysium.
Unmoved yet nimble, warmly chilled.
All now is lost; simply succumb!
Let thy spirit to the winds,
Breathe for me that final breath-
Thine eternity now begins-
Embrace the victor - Cruél Death.
So pale, so young, so majestic
In these final moments, thou!
And yet so sick, so horribly sick!
Soon thou must unto dear Death bow.
See her! She goes; no longer holds
My shivering hands, covered with tears.
She's stiller still and growing cold,
Carried by angels, she disappears.
Adonis
{kwoo§hie}* said...
... one of your most... poetic.