|
As I draw up my breath,
|
And silver fills my eyes.
|
I kiss her still,
|
For she will never rise.
|
|
On my weak body,
|
Lays her dying hand.
|
Through those meadows of Heaven,
|
Where we ran.
|
|
Like a thief in the night,
|
The wind blows so light.
|
It wars with my tears,
|
That won't dry for many years.
|
|
"Loves golden arrow
|
At her should have fled,
|
And not Deaths ebon dart
|
To strike her dead."
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
For My Fallen Angel
|
| My Dying Bride |
