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Her sweet lips lay cold and dry
the night she slipped away.
She forgot to want my touch
as she died before the day.

I cried not for a day or two,
or a week of endless tears;
my agony ran deep enough
to cry for months and years.

A ghost of love disturbed me
night by voiceless, violent night.
My tortured sorrow lit within
my heart a wicked light.

I sought revenge for my true love
from those who stole her heart;
I fought against her dearest kin
to preserve my lifeless art.

She swore to never leave me
though she be buried deep;
the church could fall upon her
and still she would not sleep.

But she is just a spirit
that haunts me in my dreams.
No pain that I cause anyone
will bring her back to me.

My hatred has failed
to cure my aching heart.
It seems that destiny has ruled
we spend eternity apart.

Rain pours through the window
as I call her pretty name.
I lie here without her love,
alone until the grave.