Emilie Autumn

You appeared to me
Like rain
After a dry spell
Like growth
After a hard year
Like life
After death
And it had been so long
Yet my eye could discern
Less beauty
In its object
Than my memory maintained
So I whispered to myself
"All is but illusion
You did well to love him
It gave you songs to write
And kept you safe"
And with a sigh of relief
I let you go