I Weep

The Rose


The night is here, so let the Raven take flight

and not fear tomorrow’s dawn. I linger between

dusk and dawn, I hear a murmur like a chuckle hidden

my chamber curtains drawn, is it you?


My ghost of the night, my enchantress begging me to

let you into my room and hide from the night.

You were stilled into fright by the might of the

knife that took your life that fateful dreary cold

December in 1795.


Oh I cried so loudly when your soul departed and

your grave lay bare and cold awaiting you, I wept

I shook; I fell to my knees and begged it to me not

you to fill that dreary dark cold hole they dug.


Now fingers gripping your coffin I try to hold it back

as they set you to rest as my rose was

tossed and darkness entered me forevermore.


Night time is so painful and I am unrest as I toss

and turn without you beside me my arms empty of

your tenderness and caress.


The battlements are quiet, the torches are out

the armor is hung and my sword is placed in its

sheath, the blood still stained from a downed

warrior I took so deep.


Revenge they swore and they took you from me

and left me this tortured soul, your torture was

unbearable as they made me pay the price by

taking you the only precious gift in my barren life.


Oh I cry, I weep, I scream, I bury my head in my hands

lost without you. I see you clearly my Lady with Raven

black hair to your waist with a beauty only a god could

bequeath. Sadly now I hear your whispers, longing to

reach out to me in my dreams.

I weep.

© Copyright Vincent Moore 2013. All Rights Reserved




I Weep — 4 Comments

    • Thank you dear friend for your visit and kind words. It was one I had published at the Hubs and removed along with many others:-)

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