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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required My beloved wife It was the crows calling that gave the final warning on this mid October morning. Just as the mist began falling upon the hills in a strange manner that was almost unnerving. This morn shall be my final calling as my soul begins souring high above the clouds on this mid October morning. Signalled by the single rose placed upon my coffin. Not a healthy rose but one that's wilting, It's red petals fading and it's leaves browning. It was placed upon my coffin by a loan woman who stands morning on this bitter October morning. She turns towards home and begins walking, towards my old manor house that now stands rotting. She passes the spot in the garden where she hid the knife the other morning, just before the police came calling. Alerted by the chamber maid screaming upon discovering by body laying bleeding. Murder was the diagnosis, probably by a burglar was the prognosis. The window was broken and my jewellery was stolen. They didn't bother to ask about the missing kitchen knife, it was all falling into place for my dearly beloved wife. As she approached she questions what she saw, large boards placed upon the entrance door. Upon the door a sign held by a single rusty nail, it read this property is now for sale. Due to deceased occupants an auction will now take place, in gods grace she calls out from behind her veil of lace. This can't be true, I felt the morning dew seep through into my newly bought shoe, she pauses for breath as she begins to think things through. Now the truth begins dawning that it was her soul and not her body that left the hill this morning. We are now two souls exploring, one up and one down on this bitter October morning.
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