December 25, 2008
I go out into the night.
Is it you I hear?
My days are filled with fright
As I wait for the moment I can finally have you near.

My father wishes you would die.
Why does he hate you so?
I hope that you'll be mine
Then no one could make you go.

My mother curses at your mention.
Why can't they tell that I love thee?
I wish they could see you as I do with affection
So never your death they'd want to see.

My father comes home covered in blood.
Is it your death on his hands?
He says your body can be found in the mud
And that you'll soon be covered in rats.

My mother says your death was necessary.
Is it true what she says that of your love I am ridden?
Shall I put my death in the hands of the apothecary?
Oh why is our love forbidden?

The bells chime at midnight.
Will our love be allowed in heaven, or is it to hell that we go?
My sisters will cower in fright
When they see my body lay dead like so.

They will come shortly.
I wonder, will they cry?
They could not understand that I loved you solely,
And it is because of them that I die.

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