"You thought it was love?"  
she mocked,  
as the sword deepened through his chest.  

"It was never love."  

"I knew it," he said,  
"as it was more beautiful  
than love ever can be".

Her hand wrapped around him,  
like chains of hatred,  
as her sword embraced his heart.  

He smiled,  
as the pain swallowed him.  

"I die by your sword,  
but still in your arms."