Ariadne to Theseus

The one soul on this isle will soon leave, Hope takes the same path but is too far beyond now. All that is left is to settle Ariadne's account, for Hope imprisoned means tongue unbound. No funeral mound for me, Time will be the only gravedigger. No weeping for me, the Eyes that are lost too early will be the only mourners. No more Color for me, there will be only Black Slumber for heart and aid were darkly repaid by the shadow of my minds portrait of you.