The stack of books on her shelf
Had one with a glossy cover.
Amidst the tribe of grey and brown
It dazzled like the gem studded queen's crown
Some mildews had left their impressions
And a miniature floret of beautiful roses
Kissed the velvet with a soulful pamper
But Inside there were tales of agony and clamour
She wiped the crystals of tears from
the crimson velvet that stored her sonnets
Like the summer's beloved waiting for the dawn
She turned the pages and found a poem written in scarlet crayon
Her eyes couldn't believe the words.
He had imprinted his grief on the last page
Fragments of love floated there in vain
His Haiku and her Sonnets were sinking in love's domain.