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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1998172
This was for a dark Victorian prompt. Had beautiful picture of dark castle. Could not add.


I Pine For Thee

My footsteps tread softly on stone cold floors.
Walls covered in paintings of the dead who went before.
Wind gently blows sheer curtains like ghosts soaring.
The castle speaks as if in mourning.

Sadness drapes me in it;s still, smothering embrace.
Oh if I could only behold again your beloved face.
Doth thou still lovingly walk by my side?
Or do the delusions rise as if by tide.

Shadows fall, reaching like fingers grasping my heart.
I cling to the sadness that I can not let depart.
Loneliness grips me, as it will not pass.
The moonlight mocks me through the glass.

My heart, my husband, my friend and my lover.
Doth my thoughts escape my mind only to hover?
I walk through the halls of our castle bleak.
An escape from this nightmare do I seek.

I climb the tower steps and look to the ground.
Voices on the wind, moaning, are carried all around,
And through the swirling mist, I see your face.
Falling, falling, till I reach that place.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1998172-I-Pine-For-Thee