By Kray   

       See the drowning of the loner,
For he exists to only be a roamer.

       He finds it hard to see death,
Overshadowed by the coldness of its breath .

         Who is that whispering near the poor raven?
          She holds the key to the forgotten haven.

          She is but an empty ghost,
Admired as she sits upon an empty host.

          Her heartbroken vessel is expendable,
           It needs no love, for its presence is unacceptable.

           She's not alone she brings a pen,
a key to the holy and forgotten den.

           The vessel likes to trace the blade,
Especially one that's become decade .

           The loner shudders at the forgotten thorn
He wants to leave but she keeps him torn

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A couplet.