Burning the night with wax and flame,
Each candle mourns a sacred name.
Wrapped in silk and twilight's breath,
Sleeping beneath the hush of death.
Lips that bloom in winter wine,
Haunting the gallows carved so fine.
Sleepless beauty, beauty in sleep,
Crossing the rift in lover's grip.
An unsung vow—to be reborn again,
To join her beloved in meadow and rain.
The roots decayed as the coffin wept,
An incomplete story that silence kept.