She was mourning when he found her.
A pretty girl of eighteen.
She clutched a later in her hand.
She looked so crushed.
A wilted petal is all she was.
He knelt beside her, took her hand.
She said they were to be wed.
He held her tight and let her cry.
She cried and told him he was dead.
He held her tight and let her cry.
He came to see her every day.
Everyday her eyes grew bright when she saw him come around.
He wooed her well.
Charming and polite he was.
And then one day a storm rolled around.
The forces brought the flower down.
The fragile petal broke again.
He begged her and pleaded her forgive.
She locked the the door and cried, No more!
He came to see her every day.
Eventually her lock fell away.
She opened the door and cried, No more!
She leapt in his arms, armor gone.
He twirled her 'round and kissed her face.
He swore the petal nevermore to break.
He slid a ring on her finger.
And said they were to soon be wed.
On her wedding day she cried from glee.
He held her hand and kissed her sweet.
She looked at him with hopeful eyes.
She looked so happy, unbelieveing of the lies.
She thought it all would soon be well.
Then the next day they found her dead.
Her eyes were closed.
Her face was sweet.
She looked asleep.
Her once smooth nightgown though...
It bloomed red.
Her heart was broken.
No more to beat.
The heat of her body now fled.
The emptiness filled the room.
All was still as she laid to rest.
He was gone.
As was the ring.
His last words still filled the air.
'Nevermore the petal break.'
Adrian Cordova
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/letter-from-a-friend-dance-of-a-lover/
