She fills my dreams. Every night, she is here with me. But when morning comes, again I am mourning her.
She was a nymph, pure as the crystalline waterfall near our house. We used to visit this beautiful waterfall often, watching it pour into the murky sea. I felt as if I was the sea, unworthy of the gift heaven sent me, but cherishing every ounce. My wife was never petulant, and she was as dedicated to me as I was to her. We were the perfect pair; Annabel Lee and I.
We were young—we were still adolescents!—and oblivious to the dark matters of the world. We lived for each other and no one else. We were free in our bliss, and our hearts soared every time we thought of the possibilities and the futures he had.
Even as we lived in happiness, heaven looked on in jealousy. The angels watched the gift they had sent, wishing they had kept her. If only I had known! I would have held her tighter, protecting her from the coveting angels. The angels blew their deadly breath on my darling, and, chilled and sick, she perished. I didn't know she was ill until it was too late; to this day, I chastise myself for my irresponsibility. I was lost in the world of love, ignorant to all problems around me until the world ended.
She was lovely, wearing golden princess curls on her perfect head. Her gray eyes were intelligent and penetrating, and her cheekbones seemed to have been sculpted by an amazing artist. However lovely her outward appearance was, though, her inward self was more so. She was so smart, and she used her intelligence to help other people. She always cared for others first, never worrying about herself. This selflessness was what I most admired about my beloved.
Even her name is beautiful—Annabel Lee. It flows like the waterfall she loved. If only I could say her name to her face one more time...
Yet even though her body is buried beside the crashing sea, she still lives here with me. The remainder of her earthly love has turned into something stronger than death, tested and still standing firm. I still pine for her, but inside me there is always a fragment, an awareness of her presence. The envious angels have not and will never conquer our love!