Leandro (Prose; Part IV)

He fell into a deep slumber that could never even be dispelled by lover's kiss. I plunged into the murky waters of interminable sorrow as misery took precedence in my ailing heart. The desire for my husband's return amplified even more on a daily basis. Day after day, I grieved over my husband's passing away. How could the merciful God allow, for such a marvelous and vivacious being as my adored Leandro, to pass away just that? Surely, there must be some sort of paranormal rationale for his demise as opposed to a methodical one, forasmuch as a man could not help but doubt the legitimacy of the latter approach. In any case, the manor house, whence we lived in harmony and in peace, altered for the most horrible kind of appearance. Much to my wonder and vague horror, it turned into a dim and dreary place of living that which paralleled my doleful disposition, in that particular era of my life. The fertile foliage had relinquished life and died along with my ebbing strength of mind. I could no longer bear the feeling of being alone that I, without needing to ask, indulge into the same object of obsession with that of my ancestors--opium.