Ah, you're back my love.
It has been too long since, on that warm Novembrian day, you announced your death, when your eyes burned cold as coal, and your hand felt like dripping papyrus. Your last spatter of glory, before that venemous traitor, that wicked charmer with seraphic eyes and porcelain heart, under cover of sunlight, stole your soul away in his case of sinew and bone, leaving you, a fading figure, an imprint on the beach, the tide of my tears, washing you away...