Motionless he lay against the floor,
Not a breath did escape his lips.
His wound was still ripe, acute to the core,
Who could have ever done this?
His thoughts drifted to the scene of the attack,
Rose petals, incense and perfume.
If only he had the strength to keep track,
Exactly whom he was embedded to.
For his murderer was not a mere innocent soul,
A lover, she was and remains.
The heart was not all that she stole;
His point of existence now begins to fade.
Recognition infiltrates the feeble mind,
The murderer’s face was all he would see.
A smile enraptures his powerless mouth,
But why is he looking at me?
My mind fainted in utter disbelief,
But my heart refused to stand-still.
Am I the one to put love in such a place,
Where it departs so against my will...
At once I distinguished the impious dream,
A cruel twist of the real and the fake.
Reality was only a teardrop away,
But try as I might the eyes would not wake.
Instead a worse twist embraced us all,
The strangest form of eclipse.
This ultimate exchange should never recur,
I looked up to meet my murderer’s lips.