I Stood Upon A Roof, Waiting
I stood upon a roof, waiting,
I see her there, still.
A pale form among all the green
Where I once stood,
She was apart.
The sage night waited,
But I saw her, still
In that strange sleep where blood runs cold,
And I watch the silver thread of a vein
Leave her lying form
And find me, so far above.
Around my wrist, I feel
The whisper of her.
It leaves me.
Every thought that stirs
In the dark of my mind
Sounds the same and
Always will:
How terrible it was
For Death to hold her in his arms,
And for me to love her still.
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