“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.”
― Anaïs Nin
He washed his atonement dry
And waited, waited and waited some more
By deaths grave he waited,
With flowers black, among the black rose rosary
All the lies he told
The truths she hid
Was I conjoined at the hip of fate?
Misery and desolation, followed me
River, it ran dry now
Land, flooded now
Death, how long will it take?
I’ve waited besides the grave so
Flowers have withered away,
The rosary is now faded.
Wait, waiting and I waited some more,
Death is late
So, am I early?
A shadow appears
I wait,
Patiently
Noctis Verses 