The story and love, which was meant to be

Walking tall, in the pace of passion

On the street, close to Lindy’s fashion,

That it was the last month, December

Even my name, she could not remember.

Lo, under the melting golden sunshine

Veronica gazed as the castles shine

In the pupil of her eye, the prince smile

Then my heart panted, like a run in a mile

My damsel with standing nipples

Walked with the prince, with her two-inched dimples

In my window, at the fifth floor

I sought and thought of any hidden flaw

Then my heart stopped in the year, on February

When on the altar, we stood and vowed to marry.

Close to the eve of the morrow

The fair prince came like the sparrow

Silence creep in and darkness crawled too fast

And such it was like the wind and dust

“Fair prince, bring to me my damsel” I said

But my heart would not clot as it bled

I screamed, but only to see her back

My dying heart followed, but to return with dogs bark.