Work Text:
Cool earth, freshly turned,
lovingly made into a grave.
Hidden in shadow, she will
never wake again from her
eternal sleep.
“Goodnight and goodbye,”
he whispered hesitantly to a
calloused world.
There, in the blue hour, he
cherished the remnants of
the waning night.
Roses for the departed, lilies
for the maiden, rue for regrets untold.
The Demon and the Girl: star-crossed
lovers condemned to sorrow.
He, who consumed flesh, loved.
She, an angel among beasts, loved.
Their story of tragedy has
come to its finale.
In their requiem-black opera,
a swan song is sung.
Mother-of-pearl mists, in the twilight
at the breaking of day, arise.
On the brilliant shroud of heaven, the
little stars will burn forever.
There, on the dawning horizon, lies a
porcelain crescent moon.
Even in the chill of Death, the warmth
of Love will forever remain.