Ophelia

Ophelia poses by the lake, 

Unbeknownst, it is the one who will draw her breath away.

The tree that will betray her,

Her flowers ready for a funeral,

She stares on.

At the water that will veil her in death,

The olive branches will fall around to grant her peace,

Her skirts of candid feathers will weigh her down.

She leans back and sighs

Can this moment last forever?

Oh Ophelia, 

It will.

This is your home now.

The rippled water knows.

The trees know,

Their leaves dare not meet around your locks,

To leave space for your forming halo.