The Corpse Bride

shriek of a violet
as the sunset cracks violently

cascading light dances
on her tomb...

she slips from her casket
her dress tattered and worn

empty eyes, tear soaked veil
where a scorch of scarlet

draws the smell rare earth,
 and blood drenched after birth

she swam to deep into
the lake of Muertos

her fury is volcanic  
bosom bleeds, from a frilly bodice

as her scorpion tongue,
leaves it's poisonous sting

He waits like an Irish wolfhound
scrapping his nails gainst her grave