Upon the midnight's cloak, my hands did stain,
In careless whisper lost, the shadowed breath,
A fellow soul slipped through the darkened lane,
Unwitting bearer of my flawed bequeath.
With every mournful hour, I reap my sin,
Each pulse a haunting bell that tolls for thee,
In dreams your visage dances round within,
Yet time's cruel hand denies what’s meant to be.
I drown in sorrow's tide—a grave of thought,
Tangled in threads of love and veiled despair;
For thou art dust where once my heart was wrought,
Yet death unveiled a path to darkness rare.
When last I sought release from haunting plight,
Thy soul reborn slips through the veil of night.
Kinda morbid