A Victim of A Mourning Glory

I am full of woe! I hold in my hands

Just his notes that proclaimed his love for me,

His love was intense but Father’s commands,

I am sad that Cupid’s arrow is now free.

Father, so precious! So peaceful! But why?!

My dearly deceased! I sing in sorrow.

Now, perchance, I can cheer up my friends by

Gifting flowers for a hopeful ‘morrow.

Sunlit days next to the glistening bank,

These garlands will bestow many blessings,

I am a song bird who flies from this plank--

But only my soul begins progressing.

My lover, my father both stripped away,

Life’s in irreparable disarray.