Tormentia


There it is whilst I wait.
Stubborn now and filled with hate he is.
My life only a shadow to him, a ghost that haunts at night.
Does it grieve him ever, or is it me the cleverer?
One foot already in the grave, one more to go.
Someday he'll know I loved him so, it was he who refused me,
released a pain inside me,
left to die beside thee.
Shattering that hope,A whitened figure like death.
My hair is of blazing fire!
Run away like the wind goes fastly thru the garden at dusk.
When the sky is purple as iris flowers. Roses close on vines at last.

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