I and my colleague got out of our car,
We, the two men with a trench coat wrapped around us,
Walked down to the alley on that cloudy day,
A ****** scene it was, across the river bed,
Where once the pearly white swans swam.
There lied a dead young woman with a stab in her chest,
Through the heart,
With luscious red hair lied a beauty,
That enamors a thousand souls,
A blooming red rose aside her right arm,
A necklace made of scallops around her neck.
A blonde winged child crying profusely
With an empty quiver around his back,
While whistling doves hovered over us,
And a purse containing letters from the shepherds,
And a commander.
And a man and a woman standing
Besides the body, were crying
And with sadness in their voice,
Saying about how without her
They will forget how to love in time,
And will never be loved anymore.
In such wailing times,
All I could do was to shed some pennies,
And I said them here are pennies,
To plant some myrtles in her memories,
Across these riverbeds,
And hope the swans swim in these rivers once again.
This is a poem, set in a fictional setting of 1800s of industrial England, where two detectives me and my colleague sees a ****** scene. From my point of view, I am witnessing the ****** scene of Aphrodite (god of love),
and I am describing the surrounding and people around the body of Aphrodite
