Passion I could only express far from
where the Three Sisters flow.
Wed under Italian moonlight, my Bella Donna.
Antidote and saviour.
My past wrongs forgotten by the ripple of time.
Time does not matter beyond the grave.
Guilt returns with vengeance and cruelty.
Dying from the nightshade my Bella Donna serves,
her beautiful face mirrors the maternal glare.
That escape by the nightshade was deadly.
Cheated, my beautiful woman a lie.
My ghost, now trapped with familiar company,
Forever where the Three Sisters flow.
