I stumble into an empty room,
Riddled with artifacts from young past.
A sanctuary for a lover’s heart to rest,
Lies beating upon the floor
In a plaintive rhythmic drone.
Your perfume still lingers here;
Like deadly nightshade, it dulls my senses.
And in a somnolent state, I see your spectral form appear.
Your auburn hair strewn about the pillow,
Like a brilliant sunburst, cradling your comely face.
I hear the joyous song of your laughter
echo in my mind, like the flutters of a butterfly’s wing.
And in the mourning light, I wake to no goddess by my side;
Just the ghostly fragments of a dream.
And as I begin to weep upon your pillow,
All I can smell is the sickly sweet scent of loss,
Forever paralyzed in your memory.