The dawn was chill and gray as the maiden stood ,
In the familiar field of the forest floor,
Though his face was smeared with dried blood some still wet where his hair fell across his eyes,
The hair she'd so lovingly stroked,
She could still see the rugged handsome man,she'd loved.
She still did. She always will.
She couldn't leave him,
She wouldn't leave him here for the crows to scavenge.
He wouldn't be buried in the marble domes across the continent,
So she'd do it instead.

Wiping the tears from her blood smeared face with an arm still dripping,
She got to her feet.
The world threatened to break at every step she took,
She would welcome it, if it did,
But it didn't.

So she walked a few paces until she found land,soft yet sturdy enough,
And began to dig.
Not a shovel in sight, but she wouldn't break a bark from the tree.
No-there had been enough death.
So she began to dig.

She dug with her hands,with her fingers,
As the dirt tore through her nails,
As the roots scut into her palms,she dug.
When her hands could move no more,
She dug with her feet until her hands could be used again,
When the tears came,she let them soften the hard ground,
She did not falter.

As dusk approached, the grave had been dug,
Her nails were cracked,coated with dirt,
Blood flowing , a dull ache starting,
She welcomed it.

At last,as the sun set,
She set his body carefully into the small pit she'd dug.
Let the Ray's of the mighty sun be her last gift to him
As she began to lower his body into the pit she'd dug,
She bend to bestow a kiss on his brow,
A parting kiss,
Her last kiss,
Her last gift.

As she leaned in,she smelled it-
Rage blinded her