Elegy
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I lost her moons ago. Death came slowly down upon her, his embrace a welcome release, I hoped, and when he left, he had stolen her breath.
For the first time I could remember, I was truly alone.
It broke me. I visit her grave now and then, to leave a rose. I hope she sees it. I hope she knows that even as the days crawl by without her, I think of her. I love her still, my Pyrrha. Every night as I curl up, alone, I dream of her coming to rest her head beside me. Maybe one day Death will send her for me instead of coming himself. She can take me off into the stars and we can be together again.
I must find another rose for her grave. Not just any rose. A calling. My books will serve me, I am sure.