Her hair, as golden as the sun, glistens in the moonlight,

her lips, red as a bright candy apple, shine.

Skin fair as a cloud on a summer day while locusts whine,

Eyes green as emeralds when the sun would hit them just right.

The way her gaze would have a feel of fright,

her laugh that made me wish she were mine.

She looked at my confession and declined,

Then, a sudden strike sent her into an eternal twilight.

But I, after grievings and goodbyes, found you sleeping in your tomb.

You didn’t struggle as you were hanging limp,

from your cold, rotting skin that was falling off your bones

But perhaps I can save you from this doom,

I shall rework your organs under the light of my lamp.

You will be mine, and I will be yours, and we will both never be alone.

                     Above: Art  Gillian Adamek, 12th Grade