The Waiting Bride

During the Spring nights, she waited,

The first frigid months came and so, she stilled

Eyes gazed upon the eclipse,

A dark abyss peered at the summer solstice,

Her beating heart waited,

Her silent pulse continued on,

Without breath,

Or a twitch to be seen,

With calm eyes, she waited,

Turned bloodshot for a lover that never returned,

Idleness crept in,

Lethargy consumed,

A white dress turned tattered,

With clinging moths she stilled,

A diamond band chained her to a life of waiting,

A promise long since abandoned before completion,

Glittering upon slender fingers,

Shining as it slid from a skeletal finger,

A silver band forever waiting for its golden partner,

As it fell she stilled,

A bundle of roses and peonies waited,

Soft petals caressing against her skin,

They shriveled as listlessness consumed,

For they knew the touch of no other

And so they stilled

She waited in her room for the promised hour,

But, no one came.

Till she was moved to the forest,

Becoming one with the still soil.