Although just one slight hour,
She’s been locked within the tower,
He’ll soon become undone,
By the shadows and the sun.
Opened up the door,
By a man who came before,
And then they fought and fought,
In a fatal-scribed cavort.
As the flames of war grew higher,
They advanced into the spire,
The tyrant ‘gainst the lover’s heart,
One will be ripped apart.
It could be vainly said,
That the lover finished dead,
But it would be lies
To keep him safe within the skies.
The lover won, and cracked the door,
And found his prize upon the floor,
She had flowers in her flowing hair,
And too, an ashen face all bare.
Poisoned by the man who died,
The man who lived had surely cried,
He turned his blade on his tunic’s gleams,
Not a happy ending, it seems.
End.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem