Author's Note: Written a year or a year and half a go. Touched up. Meh, just something.
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy XII, nor any of its respective characters, settings, etc. Poem's mine, though.
"Funeral Flowers"
he lies still in baby's breath
flesh white with lilies' brush
draped in silk and plated gold
deaf to sorrow's hush
casket's sides rise with demise
and reach to kiss the clouds
stretching high and yawning wide
he sleeps in gaping mouth
his face is stern, his lips upturned
he glows with boyish grace
handsome, death has robbed his charm
and plundered beauty's trace
his cheeks flush pink like weary rose
his youth, sad epitaph
he rests on angel wings and down
and beams but does not laugh
her eyes swell shut with selfish tears
she shivers, quick and cold
her hands mirror her heavy heart
as they clench, hold tight and fold
if wishes could reign life anew
or widow's grief a lake
would they see the irony
that he slumbers at his wake?