The Funeral Pyre

I lay you on a pyre fashioned from arbours
In which we so often sat in the gathering mist
And in our arms darkling dreams slipped harbours
And under the ardent stars at evenfall we kissed

A fool I believed our love could be forever
But death claimed you and flames your body consume
No more we embrace lest I find thee in the nether
So when you are ash with razor I hasten my doom

By E Hallam