A love so strong, it’d last a lifetime,

and even ever after.

Renew our vows in a mausoleum

with a ghostly phantom pastor.

Boney fingers intertwine—

a love to last the ages.

Spider eggs instead of rice

will be thrown to celebrate us.

A skeleton horse-drawn carriage

awaits us at the steps.

The driver snaps a fiery whip—

we’re sure he must be Death.

Ghouls and goblins cheer alike

as we pass throug...

The slab of stone is cool to the touch,

or else I can assume.

My bony fingers cannot feel

the texture of my tomb.

Thorny roses coil around,

like viny verdant veins.

Concealing details of my death,

and safeguarding my name.

The moss and twisted trees

are gnarly and deformed.

A forest from a nightmare,

or a dream from long before.

I wait for something lost to time—

the wind my only friend.

A bre...