Forget-Me-Not

In a spread hand a white clover,
There's no saving now, not ever.
In other hand it's seemed to have caught,
A pleasant, sweet forget-me-not.

Dead leaves scamper across the floor,
There's no hoping for her anymore.
As tears fall, so does the dagger,
There's no saving now, not ever.

Awaken, bride, to sorrowed weight
Of sweet pea and deadly nightshade.
Why is fate so cruel as to give sight?
Now two will perish this one night.