The Most Merciful Night

I may love her to death

But Death's not my bride

She led me to bed

The mistress of the night

She took off her cloak

And kicked off her sandals

She was so ice cold

She waned out the candles

Fleshless she lied

Right next to me

Her frame was bone dry

She looked so very clean

I placed my pink lilacs

In her hollow sockets

She took me by the hands

And emptied my pockets

We were never married

But we did consummate

It made me feel harried

But I couldn't change my fate

She loved me to my end

And she took all my breath

She was no ordinary dame

She was known as Death

 - By Ritvij. 15/Nov/2022. At home, Raebareli.