In bower bright,
Young heart alight
In love and pain.
Drops of blood like rain
Fall perpetually from my heart
As I watch it break and fall apart.

I, in sorrow forever live and swell.
A thousand pangs and more each hour.
Alone to wait and weep for misery's bell
And bleed in Hell's Stygian bower.

Marred by silence, marred alone,
Obsequies possessed and slighted.
Death in heart, death in home,
But, my love, redemption, sighted.

The beauteous Cherub, me heart adored,
From the arms of Nyx delivered;
My bliss forever with her restored
And from our love, death did slither.

I sit in toxic garden bower
Dreaming of my love, her lips, her hair.
A thousand tears in my eyes do sour,
And I dream of her face, her beauty fair.

I sit in sorrow profound
Weak and aching, dying, bleeding.
Death captured in recondite sound.
Begging for my love, weeping, pleading.

No hour of peace hath come,
No fortune arrives
Only despair, decay, and darkness glum,
And I wait for death to rise.

Solitude, no pain more bitter nor sweet,
Clings, through heights adored and sorrows deep,
Forever with me alone and steep
Amongst mountains bright,
Yet black amongst valleys dry of blithe and light.

No fear unknown, no death afar,
Nor smile estranged, lucent as this star,
For I know no further bliss nor despair
As sable and as shines,
But no greater desire than for my
Life to forever mingle with thine.