Under the morning star
In a calm little cottage
Embraced by sweet little dahlias
Where damselflies dance freely
There is a man reminiscing his love
He is painting
Attempting to paint his lover
Her countenance so pale
Her eyes emerald green
Her hair, like the afternoon Sun
But he never satisfies
Everything he paints looks so faint
Her skin was healthy and flawless
Her eyes were gay and gentle
Her hair was like an angel’s
He remembers
She used to kiss him every morning
She made him pancakes and tea
She skylarked with the damselflies
And the dahlias admired her songs
He also remembers the day she died
They were in the forest
The foxes appeared as the Moon
Painted the sky dark blue
The foxes targeted her with their eyes
They ambushed her
They pulled out her ginger hair
Scratched her flawless face
And ate her bewitching eyes
He just stood there, watching
She will come back to him
She will haunt him evermore
She will scream in his slumbers
Her attempt to tear his face
Will last forever