December 2nd, 1848 

I loved her. I loved everything about her. From the flowers she picked, to the way she smiled when I escorted her. She loved to dance. I attended many dances with her. We danced and danced, until it felt as if we were the only two people in the universe. The feeling that came when I saw her was unmatched by any other woman. Perhaps it was her touch that I craved most. For when she would hold me in her arms, it was as if heaven came down for just a moment to wrap me in an angelic embrace. I blame her for my insanity of her. I was mad for her. Perhaps if I had not done what I have done, she could have moved on. Married another man. However, I can not bear to see her with anyone else. When she told me the news of her engagement with this other man, I could not bear to witness it. I do regret my actions. I miss her dearly. I weep and weep for her! I loved her, and she left me! We shared a heavenly love, an eternal love! I write this poem now, as hope to express and feel something or anything. 

O! How winter has taken my heart! 

As above so below, until death do us part. 

My love! My love! To see you there broke me! 

Lying on the ground, bruised and bloody.  

With an axe in your head and a knife in your heart, 

As above so below, until death do us part.  

With the blood in the snow and your body buried deep, 

You won’t make a noise, not even a peep.  

What perhaps hurt the most, was I could not say goodbye. 

I was blocked out by your screaming; “Don’t let me die!” 

And I still hear your voice, under all that snow, 

Saying “When the snow melts, it’s your time to go.” 

What does this mean? I cannot say. 

For they will arrest me, and lock me away. 

I put the axe in her head and the knife in her heart! 

Because as they say, 

As above so below, until death do us part.  

December 6th, 1848 

I am now starting to realize she is really gone. I hear her voice, not calming me, but yelling! Yelling and telling me horrible things! I only wanted her, nothing else. I did not want her to be with him. As I sit here in this prison cell now, I realize this whole time I have been undeserving of her. I am no greater than a dead pig! Now, she is dead. Theodora is dead and I am to blame! Now I am trapped here, behind the gray walls of prison. Nothing and no one to comfort me, except my unrequited love poems.