I died for Beauty — but was scarce
Adjusted in the Tomb
When One who died
for Truth, was lain
In an adjoining room
He questioned softly "Why I failed"?
"For Beauty", I replied
"And I — for Truth — Themself are One
We Brethren, are", He said
And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night
We talked between the Rooms
Until the Moss had reached our lips
And covered up — our names
Even after death, the two spend the nights having long conversations enjoying each other’s company. It is almost as though death has had no effect on them other than confining their bodies to the space of their coffins.
I died for Beauty — but was scarce