This is probably my 11th try at rewriting this poem, and it's been sitting in the back of my mind for about 3 centuries now. I'm still not 100% happy with it, but it's not dreadful.
I'm still in the process of editing another story, but the first three or four chapters of the book that is related to this poem should be up in the next week.
Thanks to TheDrenchedSoul for giving me (yet another) boost! Xx

~

We stood across, on battlefield
Your face a foot from mine
And in your hand you held a knife
In mine, I held my life
And once again, I begged you stop
And you did, I swear, you tried
But your life, it seemed, was not your own
And my love, I paid the price

I try not to say I'm sorry,
It's not what you were after
My fruitless memories of innocence
And the curses of your father
Accuse me when I'm near
With the notions of my fear
That just before you did it,
Before the knife hit me right here

Tell me, my dear, did you know
When everything was set aglow
When mirrors shattered
And swords battered
When I lay, spread eagle, on the floor
And you came strolling through the door
I still fear the voice I know I heard
"You thought I loved you? Isn't that absurd"

~MallaHarkness04