Thyne Love

I can taste on your lips thyne blood
Your grave a hole in the mud,
My love for you sweeter than a flowering bud.

Dead, cold, stilled
You lie there killed.
My heart with sadness was filled.

Awake my beauty, my love.
The cold morning air brings a dove.
My sweet, come and restore my love.

For you only I yearn.
My internal flame does burn.
This my love is a lesson, not meant to be learned.

None should loose their mate,
For this, my family I place my hate.
If only thy had been late.

You would still here still be.
My soul mate, you are he.
Pain engulfs all of me.

I can taste on your lips, thyne blood.
My love will not not die like a flowering bud.
I with you shall live in the mud.

Your blood so sweet,
In this wretched heat,
I with you will forever be.