The creepy old house smells like three-month-old kitty litter and rotting dumpster food.
The night is cold, and the air in the run-down house even colder. Rachel takes another step down the hall
...
[+]
Were but a day,
Where love grew as
life passed away.
Her lovely eyes
at me would stare,
As they peered through
her lovely hair.
Her father asked
A heavy price,
But her fair heart
Abates all vice.
So as the sun
Rolls through the days,
I labor with
Her passing gaze.
For my true love,
Is why I say
That seven years
Were but a day.