posted on Feb, 18 2016 @ 11:17 PM
One of a few of my writings with similar themes. Hope you enjoy the dark romance. If you want to call it that.
She lies dead, my Queen lies dead. Her blood is spilled and I see she is covered particularly around her arms and legs that are slender and bare. Her
breasts no longer rise, her lungs are not filled with air. Her lips are pursed, she laughs no longer, no words are spoken, no words drop from her
tongue, through her lips upon the wind. Her eyes are closed, no longer does she see the Beauty that she is. She lies dead, my Queen is dead. She is
spilled upon the world. Her lips are crimson red, lips that will never again pronounce a word, lips that will never part to open for a laugh, her
laugh that beckoned to the world. Her feet are bare with the thin silk gown that is the color of Night wrapping around her from nape and arms to her
ankles the ends just dangling above her feet. Her feet that are bare and that walked and glided across this world still are divine. She lies dead,
dead upon the garden. I had placed a Rose in her hands that rest atop her breasts. I close her hands tight around the rose till the thorns puncture
her skin and her blood drops upon the silk that decorates her body.
edit on 18-2-2016 by Tiamat384 because: (no reason given)