Am I here wedded to that mistress Death,
Committed thus forever to her charms;
To feel upon my nape her chilling breath,
And too, the clammy clasp of fleshless arms?
The blanching kiss of frigid livid lips,
That leering gaze of scornful, jaundiced eyes,
The grotesque smile of gargoyles guarding crypts,
Choleric chants that ever seem to chide.
Long past the point of sin to yet atone,
No orisons of hope to gods implore,
Not but the fading wail of banshee moans,
Rude hurled into Hell’s pit forevermore;
Beyond the brink, where prayers may not annul—
Dark matrimony so consumes the soul.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.