And the bundles of violets do withering wave
Wilting silent as the evening slowly wanes
Petals falling soft upon her cobblestone grave

Oppression enforced by such a bestial knave
Written in blood, the product of his atrocious gains
Under petals falling soft upon her cobblestone grave

Left alive, only her lover’s crimson gaze
Tears trickling from his eyes like open veins
Still the bundles of violets do withering wave

Upon such stone, he had been naught but a slave
Such memories lingering only as blotchy stains
And petals falling soft upon her cobblestone grave

Selfless was the soul she so thoughtlessly gave
For him, she had sworn to break his leaden chains
And so the bundles of violets do withering wave

Standing alone with naught but his regret to stave
Staring down at the place where his heart always remains
Where the bundles of violets do withering wave
Petals falling soft upon her cobblestone grave