"P.S. I'm Sorry"

Dear Beloved,
Rest easy now
I hope you are
Happy where
You are. I am
Surrounded by
Many a stone;
All broken and
Gray. But yours,
Decorated with
Roses that bleed
Out your name
With every gentle
Breath of breeze
Gives it more
Meaning than
The plain stones.
They are from
My garden-freshly
Severed; their
Life-blood still
Within them. Unlike
You, but no one
Needs to know
What happened
Yesterday. Did
You know I
Decorated your
Gravestone? I
Hope that when
Time has flown
By and the days
Of our love
Are nothing but
Dust in the
Wind, someone
Will look upon
Our graves
And marvel at
Them. Maybe
They will live
Our lives by
Reading the words
On it-the story
Of our lives.
But, My Beloved,
I thought that
You were dead.
Even when you
Arose from your
Grave and I
Watched your
Spirit ascend
To be a part
Of all that is
And all that
Ever would be,
My heart cried
Out with eternal
Hunger and pain
For I can never
Become what you
Are. Funny how
That works,
Doesn't it?
I have only
One request,
However. Please
Remember me
As the person
That you used
To know; We
Had loved each
Other so much.
Not as the
Person standing
Before your
Grave with
The blood-red
Moon watching
My every move.
For if you look
At me now, all
That remains
Is remnants of
A once-lived life.
If you would,
Tell Him and all
The Angels that
I love you and
That deep inside
There lies inside
My soul a path
Of truth and evil.
I took the wrong
Trail, the least
Traveled one.
But I have
Not lost my
Sanity yet.
At least I do
Not think so.
The shadows that
I see are reality
To me, but I do
Not believe it.
If the bare trees
Covered in snow
Reflect my sorrow
If the blood that
Is spilled upon
My hands and
Heart could make
Me repeat the
Ultimate sin,
Do you think that
I would? Of course,
That's why I hate
You and love you.
I suppose that
I could blame the
Devil, but that
Would not be
The truth.
Our Father, who
Art in Heaven
Hallowed be Thy
Name. Thy kingdom
Come, Thy will
Be done on
Earth as it is
On Heaven.
Forgive us our
Trespasses as we
Have forgiven those
Who have trespassed
Against us.
Is that not what
You have taught
Us, your loyal
Disciplines? A
Night at your
Grave is all
I need to remind
Me of my lost-love.
Although the
Night-wind blows
Its fury; I
Cannot turn
Away from
Your resting-place
All I've learnt
I found within
My own heart
But I cannot
Distinguish the
Truth from
My heart. How
Would you define
It? There are
Beautiful stars
In the skies
Are you one
Of them? By
Candlelight,
I bid you
Farewell for
The last time.
As I blow
Out the flame
I watch the
Slowly, curling
Smoke float
Up into the sky
Like your spirit
And I kiss the
Tender blood-red
Petals of the
Roses whose
Stems crown
Your Holy Head.