Unholy MatrimonyA Poem by Aimee Mahathya dark love story? XDHidden deep in a dungeon Between icy winds and stone, Illuminated only By fire on its own: Scavenger birds cried out And echoed through the halls, Whose shadowy expanse Became those shrill calls. Behind ancient, strong, bars In a tattered old gown Lay a frail, broken woman Who was once of renown. Pale fingers clawed walls, Like chalk to the slate, Nails were broken off, Where some clotted blood laid. A pale, hopeless face Looked through a small crack. Grey eyes yearned for light - When her heart gave a smack. Chills crawled up her spine From a menacing howl Coming from beyond As though disemboweled. Her soul asked itself "Really, could it be? That my valiant lover Has returned to me?" For an answer she saw, In the fire-light's glow, A skeleton face - One she used to know. It flew round and grinned The most horrible smirk; With the stench of death rot Making her stomach work. She hid her pure face From the devilish sight. A few tears escaped, As well as a sigh. Amidst the laughter, Of Satan's own son, She fell down defeated. A wedding had begun In a tattered old gown A ring slipped on her finger. From one bony hand, To the other, it lingered. Made from the spine Of a once-holy rat; It curled round her knuckle And so there it sat. Limp arms were shaking, Her eyes to the floor, A voice called from within, Screaming "No more!" She put fists to walls, And ran from the spectre, Rapping with all might; But no one could save her. She howled and she moaned, With grief to rival the monster. Sorrowed sobs, they echoed For her lost lover. Once she opened her eyes, She saw that above her, Was the skeleton head Oh, how it did want her. With a frigid, stiff grasp It held to her tight, And kissed how it could - Stopping the night. A silence surrounded Her heart and her mind; As though they were numbed, And her senses were blind. The bars all raised up Without aid of key. With one arm to escort, Was the demon, he. Veiled and so broken, She slowly acquiesced And walked those stale corridors To wait for kind death. Out stalked the couple, Into the chill night. If one had fallen, So the other might. Into thick, bluish fog The two disappeared; One that was taken The other was feared. © 2010 Aimee MahathyAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorAimee MahathyBloomington, ILAboutI'm 33 now, much more settled into myself, and getting back to it again. The previous about me is gonna stay for now, since it's still somewhat accurate and I need some time to figure out what to say .. more..Writing
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