A Poem for my lost love

My eyes slide past the ivory moon

Hoping that death is coming soon

A rose and a ring, much in few

Are all I have left to remember you

I sympathize with the golden moon

Surface of undeterred ruin

The thorns of the rose now pierce my palm

Nobody caring to hear my qualm

All that is left is my hell below

And as you live, I want you to know

That as I now here lay,

I dream of you, Christine Daae.