A Dirge For My Sweetheart

When I pass by her courtyard And the crypt where she lies, Strange as it may sound to you I hear her muffled cries. I know for her its harder Being away from me, Sepulchered in this graveyard Where she's supposed to be. I feel she is wide awake Teary eyes green and grey, Dark auburn hair all tied up Fair fingers clasped in pray. Wish the lilacs I carry Their mauve and purple hue, Help to lessen her traumas That stick to her like glue. I implore it placates her And balms her withered heart, Which carries dreams unfulfilled Her undone piece of art. My presence may assuage her As I sit near her grave, Her epitaph reminiscent Their verses sweet and brave. ‘I still live deep in your heart Know this beloved dear, I've never been far away For I've always been near.' I know the words are ominous For they soundlessly say - ‘I shall kiss you through grass-blades And orchids smiling gay.' I never bid her farewell Nor let my tears purge, Now I sing her lullabies For I sang not her dirge. ***********