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.
