Till Death Us Do Part

The days dawn weeping—twisted gray
when stone hearts plunge on battered wings;
and bones then ache and shriek dismay.

Your tepid love keeps joy at bay
makes fools of paupers posed as kings,
as days dawn weeping—twisted gray.

With pointed, callous barbs you bray.
Quick to the root, your language stings
my bones then ache and shriek dismay

for torrid love in disarray.
The scarlet stench of fetid flings,
makes days dawn weeping—twisted gray.

All mettle forged in faithless fray
survives your glib and hostile swings,
yet bones, they ache and shriek dismay.

I can no longer dare obey
a lover, who through intrigue brings,
days dawned weeping—twisted gray
to bones that ache and shriek dismay.