Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Here thy doth sit,
Tin darkness be fit,
Many a year of pain,
Til thee gave love,
But now you're gone,
Left with suffering as you rose above,
Wishing to follow soon,
Wanting upon every moon,
Yet peace nay doth come,
For thy promised suicide undone,
Waiting endlessly to once again sing our loves song!