Loveless Lady

Her blood was painted by the hand of sorrow
Behind her veil, her silhouette was dabbed in black
As she danced to the harmony of sullen tomorrow
For she knew she would die, for her love lacked
The blood of mirth, that true happiness within
Her grave sight her morbid sorrow
was this loveless lady's most mortal sin…

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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