Dark Forest

Once upon a blue moon,
Came a death not too soon
Nor too late,
For it was to be his fate.
Dark was the night,
The silhouettes of the trees were quite a fright,
As they were illuminated solely by the moon,
Accompanied by the birds' gentile, eerie, croon.
Cautiously, gingerly even, each of his footsteps slowly made its way
Through the darkened forest of decay.
He found that which he was seeking,
The being for whom he had been searching.
Her skin was a ghastly pale,
Like something out of a fairy-tale,
Her eyes were large, dark, eyeless sockets,
Her hair fell in long, tight, raven, ringlets,
Her dress was made of diaphanous, gossamer, silver, spidersilk,
With a skirt, a large, delicate, silvery flower of the forest ilk,
And her face was that of a thin, boney, skull,
With each gentile step of her dainty, tiny, feet, the grass' life she did null.
She reached out a slender hand with long, boney, fingers,
A dark, yet soothing and gentile aura that around her, always lingers.
He took her hand, and as through the forest they waltzed,
Amidst
The dying branches of the trees,
Her necklace of fine, twisted cotten fibers, brushed against his hand in the breeze,
As a gift, she took her most prized possession, said necklace, and placed it around his neck,
And when they found him that next morning, he was swinging in the breeze by his neck.
 
...And he had the first smile on his face in years....