The windows have aged letting light in;
Dying sunlight dance with a glow, bathing my face,
Now wrinkled with memories abound
Of a sojourn, in this forsaken abode.
A light breeze floats in, my silver hairs
Tremble in the zephyr; my senses tickled,
Wake up from their deep sleep;
Her memories pervade me thorough.
An English rose, with crimson cheeks,
Her raven mane caressed by the gentle winds
The azure sky trapped in her eyes
An enchantress, my bride.
Her pale white gown streaming behind
The day of vows loomed in on me; her parting
Lips yearning for a whisper terse,
Shadowed by the wedding veil.
The night had never been dark as such,
An old fox howled aloud its ceaseless woe;
Lightening shook the earth awake,
Her smile quashed the odds.
Maids mumbled along the doorway blithely
Lofty towers echoed off the treachery enact
The rustling leaves sang a ballad
A saga of the unnamed paramour.
The pale blue walls aver the tale
Of a red stained hand that now bespeak;
And twain eyes that never quivered
Seeing the lass crumble on the floor.
The curtains still hide the grisly deed,
Of a sinner, whom the cerulean eyes haunt;
The glasses are foggy, dust settles on,
This armchair shall stop rocking soon.
The bloody wrinkled hands await
The shatter of the hour-glass anytime now
Remorse shall make way to meet
The Femme- fatale ruling the hell.
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