Bride

In the arms of passing time

Nestled like a child

When all days sink into the earth

This daughter will be a bride

Beneath the breath of nature's rhythm

Mumbled like a lie

When the dance of life dies down

Her birthright will not be denied

Forgiven like a severed limb

Reminder of existence torn

Troubled like a beaten god

Rot and rust- a thrown

In the arms of passing time

Nestled like a child

Beside the ever-growing hills

This witch will be a bride

Tattered like a widow's gown

Flashes of a glorious past

Buried like an ancient secret

A flame-devoured nest

The loving arms of selfish time

Cast her corpse aside

Still when time inevitably ends

This crone will be a bride

With no arms time passes still

Through a crack in light

This bride has finally found her peace

A widow now

And never again

In white.