11 June 2012
She was in wonderland and he was in hell. Their lives did cross if only just for a spell. She was a writer and knew her way with words. He was a fighter whose choice of weaponry was swords. Upon first glance they thought nothing of each other. And if by chance, They became lovers. His eyes drew her in, Enticing! He was to satisfy her every whim. Time grew shorter their time is coming to an end. He has to venture in to battle. Goodbyes have to be said. They cannot pretend.
Under a tree she sat, Waiting for her romancer to return. All of a year she did yearn. Fruitful poetry his inamorata did write whilst waiting. Until the moment news did come. Her hopes were nothing but good. Upon reading his final note he had sent, she realised and understood. Her short term lover dead forever. The love they shared for a fortnight would suffice no more. Her heart began to thump out of her chest. The abundance of poem she wrote for him would be laid to rest. They shared a time together, replace him she could not. For love so pure yet short lived could never be forgot. A knife she took up into her withered hand. Weeping, She forced that knife straight through her heart. To stop its insistent beating. To finally stop the pain in her soul.
They both died together in the same way, be it separate times they died with the same last thought... "a fortnight isn't enough for our love eternal, Ever-lasting in death it shall become"
A Fortnight Isn't Enough • Opuss № I