Paling the ivory

Beauty wilted in her chair
Her last straw, enkindled
Her delicacy has been marred
by the ruse of a swindler

Clutching her pearls,
she fondles the blade
The tip slips in
her bed has been laid

Shedding her robe,
Emerald tint, satin lined
stained with the blood
of her status decline

Her ivory has paled,
She’s exhaled her existence
She’s emptied her vessel
She’s crumpled
Non-existent

Death held her hand
as they danced through the parlour
Into the gloom
Death’s grip became harder

As he sat her aside
He gave her a mirror
“Look at how lovely you were.”
And her fate became clear

Beauty broke down
There was no way to mask it
Beguiled by the reaper
He opens the casket

“After you.” He announced
“You will find what you seek.”
And beauty,
composed
Found the words to bespeak

“I am lovely, be honest
You can’t let me decay.”
Death straddled the coffin
With a look of dismay

“There’s only one way,”
Quipped the pestilent host
“Your beauty can remain
In the form of a ghost.”

“I accept.” She announced
As her body became sheer
“You’ll find me every time
you look in the mirror.”