The world was dark with fog and hate,
And we seven maidens told to wait.
The day came and you entered in,
Your eyes alive, with an angel grin.
You chose me out of all the rest,
Though I was certainly not the best;
With blood like ink you wrote my name,
And since then, nothing has been the same.
You said that I was bad for you,
And I’m inclined to think it true;
In your grand palace on a slope,
With nothing left but a tattered hope
That someday I might make it out
And see the world they so talk about.
Did not expect your wilting laugh,
Nor the lack of your fiery wrath;
Did not expect your gentle hands,
Nor for you to fully understand.
With blood like ink I’ll write your name,
And fan these embers into flames.
I have fallen in love with death;
I will love you till my final breath.