Gothic Blade Poem by Donald R Wolff JR

Blame not the worm dear wasted heart
That which dies has taken place
Though lies deep asleep in shallow water
Awaits a lustful hate

Ye who knows shall never falter
Pale is thy withered face
A conscience thought is focused on
Slayer of the squirming bait

Come hither weary, oh timely tale
Once told, thee shall realize for honor sake
Only one has come to stand beside you
A sword that sways alongside his waist

Dreary, though it has been done
For her last she weeps away
The sharpened metal has cut the worm
Alas, her grave, and fate

(08/27/2021)