My Sweet Carina

In the hush of twilight's somber dress,

Where shadows writhe like lovers in distress,

I found thee, my sweet Carina, thy tresses

A fiery halo - beckoning me to caress.

Thy eyes - like polished onyx, shone with mirth,

Reflecting the macabre tarantella of our love's birth,

A waltz of whispers - a tango of sighs,

As we surrendered to the cadaverous surprise.

Our kisses - a dirge of dying rose petals,

Fell, like autumn's leaves, upon the pallet of our nettles,

Our love - a gothic flower, blooming in the night,

Exhaled, like a departing spirit, into the silence of delight.

In thy death - I found a horrific solace,

A necromancer's thrall, that bound me to thy frozen halls,

Where, with each passing breath, thou didst become more pale,

A doll of alabaster; fashioned by the cruel hand of fate's gale.

And I - a monster - wrought by love's grotesque design,

Didst revive thee, with each kiss, in a;

Locale of writhing twine,

Our bond - a Laocoön of helpless amorous despair,

As, with each passing night - I drew thee closer - to the borders of the abyss's lair.

But now - my love, our - Walpurgisnacht - is done,

The clock of fate, hath struck the final, dolorous tone;

Our boudoir, a charnel house, of spent desires,

Lies strewn with shattered dreams - like splintered, rose-tinted fires!

And so, I'll dress thee, in thy finest shroud,

Adorn thee, with a necklace - of tiny - silver daggers, avow

The darkness, that we shared, our blissful, mortal wound,

And as the morning sun awakening - casts its golden light after this la moon,

I'll gently lay thee, in a coffin, velvet-lined with care,

Adorned with symbols, of our necromantic, secret art,

The tokens of our love, that dwelled within each other's heart.

But even death, cannot claim our bond - so true,

For in the next life, I'll search for thee - anew,

Through labyrinths dark, of time and mortal fate,

I'll track thee down - my Carina - and seal thy lips

- with mine own, infernal weight.

And now, as finality's, cold whispers - softly fade,

The scent of death, dissolves, in morning's dewy shade,

The breakfast sun, ascends - the dark - blue - velvety fold,

As, with this final thought;

I realize, my heart, beats no more, for -

Thee.....

But wait!-

What miracle?-

What eldritch surprise?

Amidst this breakfast, where tea cups whisper beside your organs demise -

You stir!-

My Carina!-

Resurrected!

Reborn!

Our - dreadful - love's rekindled - where only death can forge...

Thus in this abyss - our circle closes in,

This final breakfast hour - will see our union sealed and locked - within

This dreadful game of hearts where - only

Love - can rule -

A twisted - Lovecraftian symphony - where

Thou and I - become the lunatic, luncheon ghouls -as I gazed into your eyes my Carina -

I felt our love's dark, inexorable pull,

Like a maelstrom's vortex - it drew me in, with a fatal, sweet allure,

Your skin, a canvas of decay began to dissolve like a - sugar figurine,

As your very essence - transformed into a viscous, ropy remnant, of what once was divine.

Your eyes - those sapphire orbs; that shone like stars in the midnight sky -

Now bulged - like a reanimated corpse - with an unholy, depraved sigh,

As the flesh, ripped, from your bones, in a ghastly, melting cascade,

Leaving naught, but a skeletal, latticework, of what once was a lovelorn maiden - displayed.

I screamed, oh; -

God - how I screamed - as I beheld your gruesome change,

But my cries, were of no hope, for I knew, our love's dark - necrotic stain,

Had infected me, with an eternal, virus of the soul,

A virus, that spread, with each kiss, each whisper, each dying - jerking goal.

We sprinted, like fiends from the adobe - our viral love, like wildfire, uncontained,

Spreading from house - to house, as we laughed, with a maddening, inhuman refrain,

For with each new victim, our bond, grew stronger, more intoxicating, more potent,

Pure!

Until the world, was naught, but a raging, infernal horde, of mindless, groaning throng.

Humanity, was no more - just a rotting, cadaverous husk,

As our love's, radioactive, necrotic infection, spread, like a divine, maniacal smirk,

Our viral, love-borne plague, that we laughed, and whispered, as - "I love you";

- Until the earth - itself - was nothing, but a grave -a morgue - a monstrous - never-ending shroud.

Yet, even now, as -

I stumble, in this desolate, soulless land,

I know, our love, is still alive - still festering - like an infected, untreated hand,

For in this zombie-filled - post-apocalyptic hell,

Our love - remains, a spot, where darkness reigns and - love - is the ultimate, viral pearl.

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