I was once as you are now

Warm and full of life

And you will soon be as I am now

At the end of a ruined life

-- x --

Within Her postered bed of earth, She lies

A memory to the world

When all is gone and She has left

Her beauty laid to rest

Ah, but memory now is both cruel and kind

For it keeps Her in my mind

But it brings me back to this hallowed place

To sit weeping at Her face

But there is no warmth nor returning smile

Upon that which I now see

For the only beauty here is hard and cold

Of that which is carved in stone

How unlike Her, when She walked and breathed

And Her skin was soft and fair,

For now and evermore She lies here

My beloved Guinevere

-- x --

Carve Her, said I, as She was in life

But the mason’s hands moved not

Carve Her, begged I, before She dies

So my soul forgets Her not

But She parted too soon – the work undone

And She was laid to rest

And the mason carved from what he saw

And not from what I missed

Thus Her form from the unyielding stone

Was wrought by the mason’s art

And he mirrored Her lips and eyes and face

But could not catch Her heart

He could not catch the heart that dwelled

Within Her saintly frame

Nor did he see the grief he caused

When I beheld this shame

For ’tis a shame to render in stone

That which God created

Which He hath made in perfect image

Which now has been mis-treated

-- x --

Across the River Lethe’s banks, I would fain find peace

From this never-ending night-mare dream

Of waking, living death

Give me dewy nox to drink, poppy wine or any other balm

But give me respite from this sorrow

And take away tomorrow

For though I look upon Her face, it is a face of stone

And nothing I can do can make Her laugh

Or say my name again

How terrible it is to see Her tears – falling from the sky

And running from her carven eyes

In mockery of life

And in the rain her skin so smooth now begins to blemish

For the years aren’t kind to those who’ve died

Nor those they leave behind

-- x --

And as these empty years roll by I can distantly remember

A lucid time when She was near

Not rotting in some coffin

Abhorrent, now, in my eyes is this hideous marble vision

Of my one true love laid to rest

Carved by a mason’s chisel

For what man can love a love so dear - a love so dear! -

That he can let Her die, and bear to see

Her tomb so hideous to his eye?

Sweet waters of the Mnemosyne, wash away oblivion

And return to me a clearer mind

In order I may see

In order I may see and act, to redeem myself to Her

Whose most holy beauty I defiled

When I laid Her down to rest

-- x --

And the mason now lies in his bed, a bed of common earth

Not far from that which he carved too late -

His chisel buried in him!

And Guinevere’s tomb of faded stone I did break apart

To lay me down with Her remains

To open up my veins…