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.”