Ghost Recurrence

Certain poetry in past view of the world
 An oeuvre beneath my talents, yet above my morals
 Ceased are the days of waste for I represent myself
 All extremes I endorse as I move from reticence to clamor
 Betwixt those two verges, a ghost appears
 And her eyes now glare in moonlight
 Reflecting the passion felt once before
 In the midst of crusts of snow
 A sight of otherworldly glow
 An argent dirk she draws from my chest
 Which she hands to me
 No words she speaks, no words she yearns for
 The sharpened steel I grip, as I brace for a trade of blows
 I, I think I feel nothing as your blade's touch
 Carves a slit into my trachea
 But the eyes still sway in moonlight
 Reflecting the passion felt once before
 In the midst of crusts of snow
 A sight of otherworldly glow
 Our blood blends with the silver soil
 And dream of stars rewinds the hours to foregone days of ours
 Forging paradigms of false
 Latching weapons from my sight
 Dying won't atone these deeds
 For sowed are the vilest of seeds
 Resting in her hand, a blade of virtue
 Piercing my skin of evil, a cry, an unsought reprisal
 Let us both die, the blood is painting the walls
 Ardent exiles, now we both have became
 Dying misfits, the pain is weighting too much
 No more struggle, the dream returns
 In this chamber beneath the quilts
 Hands sleep together and wait this night
 Soundless winter behind the walls
 Kindled are the hours in this new abode
 And the eyes still glare in moonlight
 Reflecting the passion I still feel now
 In the midst of crusts of snow
 A sight of otherworldly glow
 Her figure eerie yet sublime
 A spectacle to be witnessed for a lifetime