The young girl prays at her bed, on her knees,
Until she is taken away
And the young boy stands alone, a mere black shadow,
To watch his love become the helpless lamb
Dragging the maiden out to meet her doom,
“Save the people!”
No Ascalon can slay her killer
The undertaker is left to carry her perfect body
Carefully wrapped in beautiful white linen
No one can see the scarlet tears dried on her cheeks
Her funeral begins in the dark ash of afternoon, and freezes into a crimson dusk
White roses furl in black
Pursed lips are left to crack in the dying cold
And rouged cheeks are turned to stone
Twilight brings forth its sacrifices
The hearts of lovers