" Your kisses burn like fire,
I cry out into the night.
Should have known you were a liar,
I was holding on too tight.
Stoned for what I once believed in,
It's all gone, what a shame,
Looking at what might have been,
Finished playing your foolish games."
May the angels attend her in death, for
No heavenly footsteps followed her in life
Standing empty, this house on a strange shore
It, abandoned, waits for its Mistress, my Wife.
- Engraving on the headstone placed outside a now-abandoned mansion overlooking the north shore; the woman buried there was the wife of Sir Ruthaven, engaged by her family to him sight unseen. Taken from her home in France at 15 and brought to meet her husband for the first time, she fell victim only days after the wedding to a misfired shot aimed at her new husband. A longstanding rival of her parents and of the Ruthaven estate had attempted to arrange for the assassination of the manor lord and succeeded only in sending his child bride to her grave. Ruthaven abandoned the mansion after laying her to rest on its grounds, never setting foot in it again.
- - - - - -
...Yet again, I couldn't resist. I read this through and wham, image upside the head. Had to do it. That sense of loss, regret, longing for a perfection that never quite arrives, or that is there just long enough to leave one aching when it is stolen away... sad, beautiful too. *shrug* So my head is off in gothspace. Ehh. At any rate, the poem left me just sorta stunned for a while. This is the best I can do, fanart of a sort, to show what I felt, what I saw, as a result of the words. *another shrug*
Stock credits: ~fiori-di-ofelia