When she died, all she had felt was sadness.

All of the pain had twisted her heart and soul.

When she was gone, life was full of madness.

My heart transformed into a block of coal.

In purgatory, she became a ghost.

Dressed in black, she floated among the cold mist.

Deathly cried echoed in the Scottish coast.

Lingering loss was now why she exist.

How did I loved and cared for an angel?

In October, she shrieked and wailed.

To me, she was more than an archangel.

Looming fate for me was no longer veiled.

Lost sweethearts were reunited in the next life.

No more were the shrieks in the afterlife.