I CANNOT live with you,
Thy honor is my life's crux -
With worthy values few,
Forevermore, I am in flux.

Outwards onto Death's sea,
Travels our love's gentle grace,
Into the night with thee -
The heart's only key.

Yet our love is in vain!
My heart shall lay broken -
Never to remain,
The fatal decree spoken.

THERE thou came upon a summer's day
With your dedication to me -
The sweet Saint of May,
Love's revelation is he.

The sun shall shine upon thy brow,
The aroma of Spring's flowers blew -
The serenity solstice we bow,
To make things anew.

Yet our time weighed heavy,
With not a word spoken,
Guarded by love's levee -
The heart's token.

Thou shut the doors of the tomb -
Forbidden to people of lore,
Immortal from its doom,
Turned to love for evermore.

The Hours ticked along,
By Time's sheer will -
The dying swan's time song,
Our hearts, stood still.

Alas! - When time hath failed,
Penanced without a sound -
And my heart has exhaled,
Your bond, I hath found.

Past the tyranny that may rise,
Against the stars above my grave -
Let them shimmer in your eyes,
To cherish the love thou shall pave.

O! - Nothing earthly is the dying day,
When I meet death's decay!
Far from your love on Heaven's coast -
Thy guardian ghost,
Ripped from your arms,
And ringing Death's fire alarms.

And I shall rest a white hand -
Upon thy brow,
During thy sobbing grand,
And who is happy now?

Once I finally fly -
Shall I find you in the sky?
Across Love's sea?
And into the night with me -
O, blessed is she.

Across Winter's grip,
Past Serenity Spring,
When the Summer showers drip -
Shall I hear Autumn sing?

And I shall rest a white hand -
Upon thy funeral gown,
During thy sobbing grand,
For I am happy now.

Once I finally fly -
Shall I find you in the sky?
Across Love's sea?
Where we can be thine and thee -
O, blessed is she.

Sorrow alights she -
Weary from the death of me.
Nodding, napping, at her desk of yore,
After my parting days,
Prodding, trapping! - Her taunting chore,
Mourning's craze.

Once I finally fly -
Shall the heavens hear thee cry?
Across Love's sea,
Where sorrow shall be.
O, blessed is she.

I am a WIFE, finished at that,
On the other state -
I am Queen, at the throne I sat,
Love's burning stake.

O! - How odd this woman looks!
Behind Death's eclipse!
Where angels anchor their hooks -
For Heaven's love ships.

This being comfort's fair,
Her other state was pain -
But why compare?
I am but a wife - Stop there!

SHE rose to his towering rule,
The plaything of his life -
Love's rusting tool,
Of husband and wife.

She hath paid her heart's due -
Once struck by Death's love bow,
Her senses laid few,
Far from what she used to know.
Her heart lays upon Death's trail,
Bleeding endless waves -
Forevermore without fail,
Until she meets the graves.

Love she missed in the new day,
Of glorious awe -
Under the showers of May,
Her beating heart still raw.

Unmentioned tensions galore,
In that home just down the road,
The marriage they both bore -
Where blood soon flowed.

Alas, the man's mind!
Possessed was he,
By Death's kind -
To forever torment she.

Bleak stormy dreary eve,
Where an ominous draft -
Set Death's yarn to weave,
Death's conniving craft.

Spirits had swallowed he,
Consuming his soul -
And burdening she,
So the funeral bells may toll.

This phantasm he may abide,
Love's ending scythe -
Against her butchered hide,
The forces Death may writhe.

And behind that home,
Just down the little road -
The blood may roam,
For the marriage she abode.

Just in nine MONTHS time,
Thou will be brought to life -
Prithee mine heart sublime,
Into the seas so rife.

Right in front of me,
For a couple of weeks,
Below the giving tree -
Next to Heaven's creeks.

I'll hold thou in my hands,
Nevermore than truth -
My unmade plans,
Written in sand.

Come slowly, Heaven!
My lips are for thee,
When the months are seven -
My delicate bee.

Reach late my flower,
Hold tight to my thumb -
From your unborn tower,
The Chamber that hums.

Because I could not stop for death,
He kindly stopped for me,
Even behind my dying breath -
I don't think I shall ever see,
Through our midnights dreary,
A poem as lovely as he -
Collar me teary.
He is much like a summer's day,
And my eyes are nothing like its sun -
When he embraces me in May,
Near the rivers that run.
O Love, Love; wherefore art thou Love?
My crystal dove?
My heart to joy at the same tone -
And all I lov'd - I lov'd alone.