a sea that housed her heart

Where does one begin, I tell you at the start! How well I knew the days and nights in such a tender way —something unfamiliar come, with sudden dray. A dreary conception or a phantom afterthought, I was mid between the lines, when my Eleanor was caught. Caught by my affection, caught where hearts proceed to form, and bond between the heaven’s angels and the open seas fraught. Down inside the everlasting waves of my contentious being, I could not misplace the love I was seeing.

How on earth could clouds define such a tempest way to act and strike the winds of trouble towards a love way low. Had there been a lover’s paradise waiting on the shores of hell, a kingdom of my sufferance I hand and foot had fell. Oh, nights were sweet within her hold where gaping wounds wept in the sun, and there she lay on trepid vows long before I called us one. Ahhh, the sweet melancholy of the starlight onlooking the burning, nothing but my sweet surrender left her there but yearning. 

Solid tears of anguish, the turning over of that tide, left her body dosed with white. Snowy lips and pale remains smile, sure to spark the darkest flow, had I the very concept where she might long to go. Oh, the heavens moved promiscuous and catch a glimpse of her attire and set the boundaries of love, on a whimsical desire. Death became her inner vision and her promise to obtain, but there bewildered was her heart for pressing love was vain. 

So, the night became her lips all blue stark and deplete, a love that brought the angels down to walk upon their feet. There the love was forgiven to translate none but burning awe, the light would shine upon the grave of my dear sweet amore. Should the sea obtain her beauty and her grace, be told as ever gold on the wretched waves of thee. I am inset to remain here in discontent with love’s remains and find my eyes with tears of salt like her perfection framed. 

How love leaves patterns, my skin may brace the times ahead, my bittersweet it is this love, for Eleanor is dead. Wrapped tight in waters breath to keep her still, oh the sorrow of my heart who longs to hold her dying will. To the cliff she took her thoughts with wind harrowing just the same, oh sweetly that bitter end had whisked her off again. Rain the stormy seas make wavers out of this fair love, buried down below the tide as angels watch above. Silk dress in the eyes of blue and white make her a bride, but still the silent ocean seeks to house her and the tide. 

So, I must endure the pain and, in my sufferance, haunt the halls, and plead with any storm that comes, or any wind that calls. My Eleanor might resemble the lightest spark of this here heart, but those who wish to seek it true shall find it well and dark. I made a vow to undertake my love to my asserting grave and the more I find in life, without her here that sweet death I crave. Oh, to be the land where she washed the tears of her affliction and gave the more asserting look towards addiction. Where clouds reach in mind she cast away her guilt there for, her inner fight had knocked upon the door, of a heaven she once called upon to retreat from her own sorrow. Ask the Lord above her now, for salt like tears I cannot borrow. 

Love may lead the temptation of a tortured soul to glorious light but call upon the very nature to proceed as right. There must be a greater theme than death beside her longing heart, for how could she have ever leaped, but fell where worlds depart. Oh, the irony of a bitter butterfly to fall from the sky above. I watched as she grew wings from I and scored the seeds of love. I must retrace from moments she has left behind, and madness seeks to compose my heart for Eleanor and I were bind. I have loved beyond this frailty the cruelties of a dark displeasure and find none but her own heart in my daily leisure.

When the season frightened comes from all the lands beneath that sea, she is that everlasting sanity in the corridors of me. Objects in the halls make shadows of fire in my eyes and all those who trespass here could hear the cries. Such a lady fair like the sun, one can only imagine the pain in her heart, when drowning had begun.

Oh, my darling Eleanor who pleased my soul could never learn the language of her morning dove, but flew from me to a place where grace behold, I love her still, like a madman hunted for breath, for she shall not nor ever will.

Eleanor Writes

How bittersweet is sleep. The pillage of the end, where death evades the breath of life, and silence is a friend. For what becomes of us and love, does it last eternity and seek freedoms 

like a dove?

I cannot place my value on a single string that love would play, for I am mortified that death might take away all that I hold in a single note of bliss, and once it comes the blue unpleasant might linger longer 

than a kiss.

Must I ask forgiveness from the dark void that steals the light. Love would armour any hand but willingness to fight, for love it lives in shallow ground, the water takes its toll, and there would justify that ache within

my soul.

This the night so bitterly divided, and starlight makes an interesting scene, but not before we are subsided for all the love that lays between. How does one then reach the heavens, whilst the clouds rage with rain, and that lonesome wind it calls unto my

heart again?

(Live in Him)
Will the tapestry weave his soul into webs of my sleeping limbs, for I have suffered long and hard but waiting for the hymns. A song might play against the waves and morrow bring the dawn, but I have many times before felt as if forlorn. Oh, sorrows plague me in the heart, where he alive can only dwell, and tender I may live in him a 

holy light as well.

(Clovers in the Rain)
When light shines on the clover and rain persists to fall, luck might grant him pardon and not hurt at all. For what of his heart when faith insists he be as brave, only to find his gentle love falls

upon a grave.

Might judgement call this dusty place a lifeless home and deaths disgrace. For withered like an evening rose, the ocean greets beside and throws back and forth the moon of night, only to greet the lending light. Which shadow on my pale face, and all those angels lead with grace to a paradise unknown, when seeds of love are set aside, because that love

had slowly died. 

(Alleviate my Pain) 
If the harrowing wind shall brace these arms like they have never loved before, and heavens grounds shall reap thus soul, in high tides evermore. Should you find the cold limbs of a tree turning barren. No fruits, down with roots. Buried in a tomb misplaced, when grace has left the light behind, alleviate my pain my darling for love I say
I’ve lost my mind.

(Surrender Not to Death)
Surrender not to death my darling, for long might angels sing, what I can’t nor dare to say as an offering. Surrendered hearts they plead for light, and mine well due might glow, but only as a star might wonder towards the night and so, deep breaths would have been hard below the tiding sea, and as you know, I loved thee so

more than life in me.

Can you begin to reconcile the love within your heart, my dear? For all is dark without a flame, and I fear the end is near. How does one tell the heart to stop? It loves forever just the same, and nothing can relieve that ember of my aching pain. I am lost amongst the dark, my darling, awaiting the coming light, and so I say, it soon is day

but leave me in the night.


Do not weep for I am sleeping and paradise it holds the light, a frail moon would lay with doom and all the stars would fright. But you my darling Edgar, might not understand me now. My very weakness proceeds me, to the cliff and the tide, a place of rest for ghosts they haunt, I kept it all inside. I shall lay with sorrow at the rushing of the sea, and there make angels come. Waves would cover me, and love would neither part the way, it lives eternal like our vow, you may hold my heart against the pressing chamber now. So, leave not the window open, and place more rose to pasture there, for I was loved so tenderly, but in my depths despair, forever seems to promise something. But ghost or darkness, I had nothing but my lungs to breathe, in my shallow water the rocks make better use of me. So my tears lay hollow, too

into the deep, where loves sweet accordance won't crave me in the wretched end.

For you my sweet darling, were my one and only friend. Love me in the seasons when the amber takes to heavens sky, and leave me not without a rose

beneath the tide, for I. 


As so loved for many years, my Eleanor, as the haunting so begun. It was my only right. Embraced she was by deaths great tide and I was broken for my darling bride.

Two ghosts travel the waves into the ocean deep, love forever haunts the halls in shadows that they keep.

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