The Day's Mourning

Fire kissed you lay your ivory skin aglow beneath the gaslight from the cheery floral globe marooned in innocence he died not long ago and left you to wear a ring and coal black robes. Drained of emotion, still as death but in repose beneath the gaslight from the cheery floral globe you rest. Your ruddy cheeks the firelight bestowed a vigor your weary heart can no longer hold. Drained of emotion, still as death but in repose, the shadows soften, pearl your skin, highlight the gold in waves your silken tresses fall, their flow shows a vigor your weary heart can no longer hold. So like the Lady of Shalott, she's indisposed for like Ophelia white as bone on a chaise she lays, in waves your silken tresses fall, their flow shows that sunshine kissed your crown oft on better days. Let her not wake, we need no words to see her pain for like Ophelia white as bone on a chaise she lays, her heartbeat slows, his wraith goes, all's been in vain.