This is not a love poem.
That was not love I fell in.
Rose covered graves,
is it death that I'm smelling ?

Fate knocks on my door
and I don't bat an eye.
"Fate can't be ignored !"
well neither can I.

Winter spread across the world
as the days went by.
My men fled the lands
to catch the last of the tides.

Preachers deep in prayer,
seek refuge from the skies.
Monasteries abandoned
in pursuit of the tides.

Drowning in herself,
in service to her pride.
Not a law left unbroken
now show me one I can abide.

Mountains took shelter
where I chose to reside.
Born to the storms that
cast terror upon the tides.

The storms called my name
until I saw it in those eyes.
Disbelief had all but claimed
what I'd salvaged from the tides.