The day was ghostly pale on which this tragic tale unfolds
The wind blew icy gasps of breath on crimson leaves of gold
What eerie silence sings among the blackened air so weary
What anticipation grows in frozen ground so dreary
From a sky of slate grey wonder
No weeping rain to cry
On heart heavy fog did all time wait
For the little girl to die
The charcoal paint upon her eyes leaks down her face of white
Her heart pours pain from scarlet lips
It aches this mournful night
The time ticks by
Bleeds aches from mortal wounds inside
Until her eyes of blue run dry
Until at last her soul is bare
Exists no hopeful song to care
At last she sees through drowning eyes
The melody of doleful sighs
From somewhere screams a blade of magic
To end this life of love so tragic
At last she knows what she must do
To **** these withered pearls of rue
Upon an ancient oaken desk
A melancholy knife does rest
And through two bleeding eyes of grief
The metal cursed with blessed relief
Lays waiting like some treasured key
The one last chance to set her free
No longer the girl in candlelight dim
Would weep for her lost thoughts of him
No longer would she endure the pain
That worsened with each dying rain
No longer would she have to stay
To bear her heart for one more day
And never had she felt such bliss
When thinking what joy would be this
For the day was ghostly pale outside
And she was tired of having to hide
Then once more the clock did chime
She hears it for the one last time
For a moment it pounds inside her ears
She stiffens with her deadly fears
Her fingers wrap around the knife
The stone cold steel to take her life
She stabs it deep into her heart
The last pain felt from the world she’ll part
And then with shaking hands of bone
The young girl dies there, all alone.