On the verge between land of the living and land of the dead.
Stood from each side one of the newlywed.
The spouse short after the nuptial mirth,
Came the reaper claiming her bosom.
Her heart was weak way befor birth,
And festivity hath not spared from snithing her blossom.
Groom alone short after obsequies grief,
Came to the reaper asking for rest.
For his felicity was sourishly brief,
And sorrow've had of him the best.
The wroth bride on her side felt hapless,
Thoughts of the verboten crossed her mind.
To be made on a glory day ardorless,
Was indeed doomed of a sign.
The groom faced the reaper and said,
My soul be yours conciding i join my love.
The grim by his scythe cut his head,
And uttered: "once below forget the above".
The bride then an ariel implored,
Asking for a last breath.
The fairy, her life to the bride bestowed,
But once alive she shall never taste death.
The suitor probed Elysium and hell,
Chasing the one that got away.
He found of her not even a cell,
Just a piece of her wedding array.
The bride scoped all leading evidence,
In quest for her beau.
All she found pointed to his evanescence,
Such as a rotting trousseau.
The groom then realised his debacle,
That he would never return home.
The bride knew the obstacle,
That her decision was one of a gom.
On the verge between land of the living and land of the dead,
Stood the fence that could only instil dread.
The hex of an unholly love with no apprise,
Brought otiose to one and the other demise.