Here lies a girl in a bed of thorns
the last leaf falling,
crumbled and torn.
Her soul calling
for a wicked dream.

She was white as ivory
soft as silk,
oh how I strived for the
in the presence of wilted roses

Oh what a sight
of shaded green
from blue colored eyes
was she seen

I saw the agonization 
of attempted bilk
a blight of mercy
as surrender became
the only consultant 

A waver of white
stained red
with the forbidden taste
of familiar fruit

In  a collection of wounded warriors
one knight rises,
past the  fallen.
Devoid of hope,
she's all in.