Without you

Show me the gate

of pale green polished jade

to my little ivory heart,

painted in mysterious art,

with thin balls of amethyst,

with wandering opals meet in a tryst

with the rubies of the lime,

reminding me my forgotten crime,

when I cut the rose in the early spring,

just before it began to bloom

I robbed her gloom,

for my remembrance,

of a loving heart,

sleeping in the graveyard. 

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