Each and every night, I wake up in fright,
To the haunting nightmare, that has no end,
To those eyes of hers, oh yes, clear and bright,
To whom, I once, merrily called my friend.

Soon terror grips me, its fingers stone cold,
With force, guilt claws its way into my mind,
The fair girl with hair the colour of gold.
Backwards into the past, my memory starts to unwind.

I try driving her away from my thoughts,
But per usual, it was to no avail,
Memories come flooding in, lots and lots,
As I reminisce, I let out a wail.

I remember how like the vines we were,
Different, yet still perfectly entwined,
Eternity, was what we had sworn to each other,
Until one summer night, when I went blind.

So very poisoned by wealth, that, I was,
To the point I spilt her blood upon my hands,
When I awoke, spotting the shattered vase,
Too late, blood was already on my hands.

That calm summer night, when she was no more,
I weeped and weeped, and cried all my heart out,
The girl with hair the colour of gold ore.
I had destroyed her, without any doubt.

And on this one calm summer night,
The tragic secret that no other knows,
One which I had carried since I last saw light,
Will vanish, like the tears dripping on my clothes.

As I raise the frigid steel high above,
I see a lucid image of she who is kind,
She simpers and glances at me with love,
And I smile as blinding lights fill my mind.

Epilogue
How she died no one will ever find out,
For the dreadful truth will remain untold,
Oria, the girl lively as a trout,
Oria, the girl with hair the colour of gold.