Death of a Sister

"It's all right,"
Her whisper'd breath
Caresses skin dove white
With death.

Her hands brush long
Dark hair, entangl'd
In forgotten wrongs
And hardships wrangl'd.

Thick lashes rest
On high cheekbones,
Irises hidden lest
They forevermore bemoan

The fate of this beauty.
A silken, decorated
Bodice conceals her nudity,
Which skill and love created.

A chaste flower
Plac'd upon her breast
Within her hands empower'd
And petals gently press'd;

She is mourned by all,
The great and poor.
Cursed is her fall
Which closed her eyes forevermore.

And at her side her sister
Sits, contemplating
The memory's last picture
Thereof, and the waiting

She is sure
To endure.