A poem

[The words beneath are scrawled in poor handwriting, with many words crossed out, ink blotches staining parchment. Though it may not be particularly good to the discerning eye, it's clear its author spent a great deal of time writing it.]

To my dearest Bliss,
The greatest apprentice, I could ever have had,
Someoneone whom, I'd very much miss,
Every moment we've spent, makes me glad.

In you I found something I'd never known,
That elusive concept, they call happiness,
These feelings, they've only grown,
But now I delve, into deepest sadness.

For my dear Bliss, she threatens me,
To hurl herself away, into blackest abyss,
I know all too well, that desire to be free,
But this way will ensure she's missed.

There is still hope, in my mind,
That together, we can walk away from this,
Who knows what we shall find,
From shining Celestia, to darkest Dis.

So please, consider this final plea,
If not for yourself, then for me.

       Day 1, Month 7 (Flamerule (Summertide)), 171 AR
       Emily Bitterbloom