the weeping vail

The Weeping Veil

Beneath the stars, a solemn veil
Drapes o’er the night, both pale and frail,
It weeps of things long cast away—
Of dreams that fell to slow decay.

The wind, it hums a ghostly tune,
A dirge beneath the waning moon,
And through the mist, a figure cries,
With hollow gaze and haunted eyes.

She walks alone, this mourning shade,
Through fields where light and laughter fade.
Her voice, a song of bitter woe,
A tale of love, long lost below.

For once she lived, a heart so pure,
But death, it came without a cure.
It took her love, it stole her flame,
And left her with a whispered name.

Now, cursed to wander evermore,
She haunts the shores of grief’s dark shore,
Her veil a shroud, her tears like rain,
Forever bound to endless pain.

The living hear her soft lament,
A sound of sorrow, soul-bent, spent,
And in her voice, the echoes dwell—
The sound of heaven turned to hell.

Oh, seek her not, ye who still breathe,
For in her grief, she hides beneath
The veil that guards the dead from sight—
A veil of weeping, endless night.