Dark

Dark . . . dark is the shade of my truest love,

blacker than the blade that quenched stars above.

In swift falling skies I feel your warm breath -

in your deep blue eyes, such intimate death.

And sorrow's cold ache is drawing too near,

I feel I might break, to see you now, dear.

Brutal is the stone you have buried deep,

like a shard of bone in eternal sleep.

Like a poison kiss, like a warm embrace,

these things I miss, that you disgrace.

Five minutes ago, you swore I was yours.

Five minutes ago, you fled for far shores.