A Bleak Wedding

He sat there sadly as she wept,

Her strawberry hair fell across the sheet

Where she laid. Her hands were clutched

Into fists, pale white against the dark stain of

Blood.

He watched her as her breathing slowed,

Her voice was hoarse from the screaming

That had been ripped from her throat

As he made her his, she had wanted it, she had

Begged.

He was now her master, her lord,

Her lover. She had given herself

Wholly to him, mind, body and

Soul was his. It could never be taken

Back.

He stood, lightly raising her head to

Meet his gaze, her eyes still drenched in

Tears. He smiled and smoothed her

Hair back from her face, taking in her

Beauty.

He whispered: “I’m sorry, so sorry.”

His voice broke as he looked away,

His face flushed with shame.

She touched his cheek with a quivering

Breath.

“Why?” she asked, pulling him to rest

Beside her, her hair pulled to the

Side to show the still bleeding

Wounds along her neck, “I am happily

Bound.”

He smiled and held her close, her

Head on his chest, her warmth

A comfort. “Only to make you happy,”

He said with a sigh as she fell asleep, as a forlorn

Bride.