My Lost Love Poem by Max Corvus Tenebrus

Tis midnight, no star shining,
My sorrow is nearly burning
All my soul, within me, stirring,
In my heart all hopes are dying.

As I watch you, dead you're lying,
There upon the velvet poppet,
Like a cursed, lethal prophet,
"Oh, my love! ", my poor heart crying.

But the echo still replying,
In this gloomy, hated tower,
In this late nocturnal hour,
Still you're lying, not replying.

It is now no more worth trying,
Bagging, weeping, pleasing, kneeling,
I have lost my happy feelings,
Only lying, not replying.

You look like an angel sleeping,
Filling my black heart with sadness,
Making me a slave of madness,
Angel sleeping, secret keeping.

Now beside you I am lying,
On a velvet, so smooth, poppet,
Smiling at that cursed prophet,
Happy, cheary, almost dying.

Our bodies the spell is binding,
And there is no more life in love.