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“You were my beloved lacrimarium, my purgatoryx, a red light candle night; a wide lost room in our love's dimension. You were the sunlight reflected upon the moon's eyes, the zephyr of dawn that fell down so conscious. You were my broken unguentarium, a paradox, my funerary and my resurrection. You were the sword and the wound; I was the pain and its sorrow. You were my beloved lacrimarium; once a funereal monody - now my heart's unguentarium and this eternal melody.” — Becky M.R.
You were my beloved lacrimarium,
my purgatoryx, a red light candle night;
a wide lost room in our love's dimension.
You were the sunlight reflected
upon the moon's eyes, the zephyr of dawn
that fell down so conscious.
You were my broken unguentarium,
a paradox, my funerary and my resurrection.
You were the sword and the wound;
I was the pain and its sorrow.
You were my beloved lacrimarium;
once a funereal monody -
now my heart's unguentarium
and this eternal melody.