Like every fairy tale villain, she meets her doom at the hands of the ever-so-loving ex-fiance and his mistress. Yet why did this world play such a joke, repeating this wretched life eleven times?
Ianthe is tired, dreadfully so. Perhaps they wouldn't mind if she could rest-just for a single lifetime.
- i. Some day this quest
- ii. Shall cease;
- iii. Some day,
- iv. For aye,
- v. This heart shall rest
- vi. In peace.
- vii. Sometimes-ofttimes-I almost feel
- viii. The calm upon my senses steal,
- ix. So soft, and all but hear
- x. The dead leaves rustle near
- xi. And sign to be
- xii. At rest with me.
- xiii. Though I behold
- xiv. The ashen branches tossing to and fro,
- xv. past these cold and damning walls