Yes, my thoughts were unfaithful.
I could not help myself.
This marriage was bleak and fake.
Each day I felt like a corpse.
I had no desire to eat or breathe.
But somewhere my will to live was obstinate.
I began to fortify my existence
the day after you touched my hand.
Your visits became a symbol of hope.
I wanted to breathe in the same air that you breathed.
I dared to hope there would be an escape
from this castle which was my prison.
No one knew that my dreams were only of us.
Then one day, news came of your death in battle.
I cried because I was not there to tell you again of my love for you.
My consolation was to join you, after my last visit to a secret bottle in my cabinet.
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