Beneath a sky of ebon flame,
Where trembling stars whisper her name,
Two hearts did yearn, a bond profane,
Bound by sorrow, love, and pain.
On one side stood a maiden pale,
Her raven hair a mournful veil,
Eyes like dusk, where shadows weep,
Guarding dreams that never sleep.
And on the other, across the stream,
A poet lost to death’s cruel scheme,
His hollow voice an aching plea,
A hymn to love's eternity.
“Beloved,” he called through mist and stone,
“I tread the night, though I’m alone.
This river vast, a ghostly tide,
Shall not our fates forever divide.”
She stretched her hands toward the brink,
Where willows mourn and waters sink.
“O dearest shade, my soul’s delight,
Shall I not cross to end this blight?”
But the river spoke with a dreadful roar,
A barrier forged from life’s dark lore.
“Your love is pure, your grief is deep,
But between you lies the grave’s cold keep.”
The heavens wept, their tears a chain,
Binding lovers to their pain.
Yet still they stood, a breath apart,
Bound by death, but not in heart.
And so the river churns and sighs,
Beneath the watch of endless skies.
Two souls, as close as death allows,
Exchange their vows beneath the boughs.
Oh, cruel the fates that weave and spin,
A thread of love, a thread of sin.
For though the abyss may never relent,
Their aching love is testament.
Eternity waits, a patient stream,
Where someday they'll bridge this dream.
Till then, they linger, hand near hand,
Two shadows longing on death’s strand.