Death Of The Lovers

He came to her in the night,
His eyes gleamed, and shined
His hand caressed her soft skin
Near the firelight.

He came again in the day
His smile broad
His lips touched her tender mouth
Near the carriage bay.

He married her during that year
His hands so strong
Clasping her tender fingers
Near the fountain where.

He cared for her when she grew old
His aged hand holding a blanket
Covering her wrinkled skin
Warding off the cold

They died together buried there
Their bones now brittle
Separated in two cold boxes
Longing for each others stare.

by tiyler durden

Comments (2)

There are no Double coffins? a double bed? that would be nice no? nice read Tyler Dave
Such a shame that lovers have to part tiyler, but they are forever connected in spirit. Believe me, I know. A lovely meandering poem about the bonds of love. 10 from smiling at you, Tai