Encaptured

It was exactly the hour of eleven,
walking through the desolate park,
he couldnt quite make her out at first,
his surroundings gloomy and dark.

and then this beauty came into focus,
oh to behold such a glorious sight,
her radiance glowing all around,
illuminating the otherwise sombre night.

seated next to the newly erected fountain,
she looked somewhat fascinating, yet forlorn,
the image of her was picturesque,
though her clothes were tatty and worn.

her face, line-free and youthful,
posture, full of pride,
but through her eyes you could portray,
dark secrets she did hide.

there was a presence about this enchantress,
as if she wore a cloak of suffering and torment,
but her her exquisiteness overpowered it,
and it seemed as though, from heaven she was sent.

he was drawn towards her almost magically,
by an unforeseeable force,
but when he almost reached his goal,
he was filled with such remorse.

for where she sat was unoccupied,
he couldnt believe his eyes,
because in her place the most astonishing thing,
a long stemmed red rose did lie.

never again did he clasp eyes on her,
but to this day he will keep,
a long stemmed red rose that will never die,
but at the hour of eleven, dew will drop,
as it silently begins to weep.