Damned delight, born of attraction to the fae;

Their union mourned, their love forbidden.

She asks for his hand, in defiance of tradition;

He offers his love, their souls — now bound.

Oh joy! To bear witness on this blasphemous day;

To be welcomed, when from all others — hidden.

This moment is bliss, it calls for celebration!

But it will end with a whimper, or worse yet, with not a sound.

Why must their love be snuffed, scorned and forgotten;

When the beauty of its flame is plain for all to see.

_“A union between man and fae? Preposterous” _they cry,

While they remain bitter, blinded by what _was_.

__

A celebration I’ll hold, while the two are besotten;

Where their passion may burn, without worry, free.

The forest will shield, from any who dare pry;

While the trees will bear witness, to the beauty that _is._ __

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