Ophelia by Odilon Redon |
In Death she makes a lovely bride
A face as gentle as a child
Her brazen eyes no longer wild
In spirit always by my side
Although I weep, I'm yet beguiled
Her magic she does still retain
In Death her beauty does not wane
but now my jealousy grows mild
For Love she can no longer feign
Her lying heart has stopped its beat
She now lies free of guile, deceit
The perfidy that was her bane
In Death, how chaste, how true, demure
She is an angel, perfect, pure.
12 comments:
in death she is what she could be in life....
Lovely and for me a surprised welcome of how this is like something I would create of a once lover but you captured it in true non gendered fashion. Love your diverse heart and mind, mi amiga
I agree with you on one of your tags...some relationships are truly hell. LOL
Even though doomed, I loved the romance in this. She was still a beauty even in death. Lovely :)
This is really beautiful. Well done!
Dark and elegant...I like this, Mouse!
I enjoyed this, Mouse. The gentle rhyme, last two lines ~ so true ~ when it's all over and done.
Beautiful image of death, Lolamouse, very well done . The corpse bride, so intimately connected with life.
She just thought she was the perfect woman before that. Now she is.
Whoa. That came out bad, I think.
She does resemble an angel...
Lovely write.
Anna :o]
Great take on this Mag. :)
really love the poem! suits the painting perfectly!
i also like your tags! {smile}
♥
A "twisted" love, for sure. LOVE IT!
Post a Comment