Another declaration of undying love. 
Dear Lord Strahd von Zarovich, love Escher. 

Each word you speak makes my withered heart bleed—
A bitter spirit coursing through these veins. 
Entombed in lies, yet seeking truth in deeds. 
I reach, yearning for release from these pains. 

But ‘tis a dream I cherish, and not you.
Thus I close my eyes, so that I may see—
The man thou once were, untethered and true. 
Our love like echoes from a long-lost dream. 

Like a candle burns, or a storm rages. 
‘Tis a passion I never wish to snuff. 
As your music binds our hearts in cages. 
Oh, how I wish to be simply—enough. 

You say you love me, but the truth I know. 
Your heart isn’t mine. It is hers, alone.