Sonata as an Awakening

Hearing a beautiful melody
Coming from downstairs
I recognize the song
As being that of my love's
Impossible, I think to myself
For he is dead
As I begin to descend the stairs
The playing becomes louder
I know this is his work
My petticoats swooshing around me
Cannot drown out this marvelous piece
Of melancholic music
I grab the banister
With a lacy, gloved hand
As to keep from falling
I feel my corset loosen
As I breathe in deeply
My boots hitting the steps
Are the only other sound
Besides this sweet symphony
When I reach the bottom of the staircase
I gaze upon the one playing
Wearing the clothes he was buried in
He turns around as I approach him
We both cry aloud in horror
Both of us staring at a skeleton
Of the person we loved
As my flesh-absent hands
Stroke his decaying face
I offer him a drink
Of immortal substance
When we awaken from our dreamlike state
We are alive again, so to speak
Able to spend another eternity together