The Passing

The Passing
Fallen into shades of red,
The Maiden let's her chest to bed
The tears she conceives run from her eyes,
leaving their trail of remorse, making it rise
The White Lady hangs in her eternal sleep,
gleaming forever, but to hear her weep
The Maiden slips from her body, awaiting her fate,
gossamer wings carry her, her life is too late.
Category:TheWiseOne
Category:Poetry
Category:Tragedy