My Lady: Desiree

By Joshua Howe

I came home once in late May,
to find my Lady Desiree,
Upon my chair within my room;
In black garments she did consume,
Meager remnants of hallowed light,
And with it my pure, snowy white;
Bleeding from my heart day and night,

Every single following day,
I now see my Lady Desiree,
Sapping life from beautiful notes,
Picking dark corners where she dotes,
On none but me, or so it seems,
As my petals wilt her eyes gleam;
Colour begins to fade to grey,
Locked in my room always to stay,
In the arms of my Lady Desiree,

Eventually they arrive,
Friendly hands to help me drive,
In cautious force my Girl away,
Indeed, my Lady Desiree,
With hugs and squeezes and curt nods,
Putting to trial the evil odds,
Dismantling my Lady fast,
And damning shivers into the past,
Thank you.

But still yet on most somber nights,
When mirth has tired of winning fights,
A whiff of her hair floats around,
Upon the air with tension bound;
And I long to be taken away,
By my lovely Lady Desiree,