Rain keeps falling
In her heart,
Like melting snow
Receiving the heat
Of the fewest grains of Hell.
Covers her ashes,
While shadows
Cover her light.

I know she hurts
Under where she blankets
A melting face,
Of tears that bleed on for years,
In the waking velvet
Of sheets
That lift, before her form.

She lays, buried,
For all the kisses I place
Like spells upon her lips,
Upon her cheeks,
Will perhaps lift,
Will perhaps sift
The matter from her debris,
Her face from where she breathes
Echoes of unrelenting sadness.

So beautiful,
Yet spoken of her cries
To the tomorrow
That never truly arrives.

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