Sonnet 219

When I am wedded to that mistress Death,
Committed so forever to her charms,
And feel on nape, the coldness of her breath,
And too, the clammy clasp of fleshless arms;
The blanching kiss of frigid livid lips,
That leering look of scornful jaundiced eyes,
The grotesque smile of gargoyles guarding crypts,
Choleric voice now ever there to chide.
Long past the point of sins to yet atone,
No breath or words survive to gods implore,
Not but the fading wail of banshee moans,
So hurled into Hell’s pit forever more;
Beyond the brink, where prayers may not annul;
Dark matrimony so consumes the soul.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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