After Killing Jasmine

Blood seeps from my Jasmine, her white body slowly turns red; the tender heart sliced in two, her fragrance about to fade! I stand before my shallow mirror, my hand proud to hold the knife; the knife that just split her heart, robbing Jasmine of her life! My shallow mirror laughs aloud, mocking me with fright; the poet in me cries in haste, 'The Light! Put out the Light! ' In darkness do I stand alone, my Jasmine before me; I beg the moon to hide itself, the sight I fear to see! My white Jasmine with her blood, is now a reddish rose; a scent of love surrounds me, poetry, not prose! In death she gives me back a love, darkness fills my night; In grief my poet, cries out now, 'The Light! Where's the Light! '