Crimson Vines

By: Lizzy Gee

Crimson vines so twisted,
Allowing grieving the willows to weep,
Ashen sky turn livid,
Into the midnight summer’s heat,
I shall meet you in the ruins,
Under the bridge and through the wood,
A devotion running deeper,
Than a journey towards the soul ever could,
A plot stirred thicker,
With the reek of selfish desire,
Barely able to look into your eyes,
Now crumble our touch with the fire,
Duty seeming more fit than an honest love,
But no,
It is what concurs the heavens from above,
And you grasp the reeds to late,
For a vial poison will decide your fate,
My tears cannot purify your wounds,
Like on the shores of another land,
A far away memory,
Helpless, holding your hand,
To ease whatever pains you,
As heads clash over facetious power,
We sit by the peaceful waters,
Gazing at the lily flowers,
But soon they will arrive,
Resulting with a blade,
We have come far you and I,
Fighting away the plans the world made,
But not far enough,
Never far enough,
Caress my cheek one last time,
And I you,
Say what can never be repeated,
Under a shades of mourning,
Your breath falters,
As my heart runs cold,
“Tristan!”
Our fate must now unfold,
Now the crimson vines are undone.