Well this is the kinda thing I’m into:

Here’s Sevine, if she were a deserter -

[hider=Sevine]
An anguished heart,
Tormented and battered.
Oh what have I done?
Where have I gone?

Home is dead.
My feet carry me onward,
down paths unexplored,
dusty dirt roads instead.

Never to show my face again,
branded a coward.
Weakness is not like a Nord,
I fled to distant lands.

There is no love, for a deserter,
be they man or woman.
See now, how their eyes scorn
and judge a woman torn.

I could not raise my axe,
my blade did not fall
A mockery I have become.
I turn my face from the sun,
slip through the shadows,
a ghost of the woman I was.[/hider]

And Leif’s poem if Sevine had died in his arms instead of him saving her:

[hider=Leif]
Pale was her skin,
a body trembling in my embrace,
A sweat stained face,
Words of delusions
spoke asunder.

There is no fame
No glory
In death
A blade poisoned
From whence it came,
An unsung story.

A crown of fire,
Forever gone.
Ashes scattered,
amongst the winds.

A life cut short. 
My own life come to end.
And I sail from port,
To port, an empty bed.

Brown glass bottles,
Are flecks of her distant memory.
Swaying feet, and a needed throttle
To wake myself from this story.

But is it a story?
Is it a dream?
Or is it an everlasting nightmare.

Forever haunted,
Her ghost torments me.
Evergreen eyes gaze back from the shadows,
A taunt, a tease, of what will never be.

And if I could, but hold her again,
Breathe life anew,
I would be a changed man,
She was one of the few,
That stole my heart.

Her voice carries on the wind,
A whisper,
Words never clear,
A deeper, darker fear.[/hider]