Ashes of Love

Fallen, scarlet, stained old petal of tears—
The mists of a cloaked, gaunt man roams,
Searching endlessly for the thing that brings,
Waiting for that maiden who grieves,

In the dark, without a sound, the shadows gather,
In the middle, the creeping shadow,
Of the innocent child maiden, who stood alone without fear,
Of her image he savors, the death she brought.

She walked languidly, and quietly beside him—
His silk grey vest billowed in the eerie wind,
Their pace quickened as the night falls,
Her pale façade, the angel of death roams.

An empty shell of nothingness – broken and empty
Orpheus' black rage as the nighttime mocks,
In the lonely, empty church he knelt – cascades of tears,
The thunder raged on – that hate has been burnt into ashes

His twisted soul remains and his bloodshot eyes spoke,
A new man hath been born'd, and the damned.
The eerie ray of moonlight over the clammy ground,
Another night to speak to his rapt wife,
As tears bathe her worn-out tombstone.

That his maiden lost forever is never understood,
Keeps her enshrined forever – when suddenly,
The ephemeral shadows lurk behind,
Never once he looked back until he realized,
Thanatos with a scythe after him he rode.

A/N: Written for English class.