He bore her coffin through the mist that wept on weathered stone,
The mourners’ solemn chants rose thin and cold, then perished in the air;
Yet delirium stirred beneath the night—his heart no more his own,
For love’s blind spell took root and thrived within the moon’s frigid stare.

When the crowd withdrew, he lingered ‘neath the angel’s grieving wing,
And murmured vows no soul could hear, eyes alight with dark desire;
The lilies waned, their fragrance fled, while worms began their whispering,
And in his chest a fierce flame rose—to claim his bride from that frozen pyre.

A fortnight hence beneath the stars’ pale spectral glow, he clawed the earth with frantic hands;
The loosened clay exhaled and breathed, as though the grave itself did conspire;
He freed her from the silken veil, and kissed her brow where silence stands,
And felt death’s eternal hush ignite the fever of his heart’s vile fire.

She lay in splendor, ashen grey and still, her shroud a fragile, shimmering veil,
Devouring worms traced her hollow cheeks—mute pilgrims weaving funeral tales;
He sobbed for sin, and brushed her skin, breathed vows no mortal dared to hail,
Till maggots writhed as shadows stirred to witness love through death’s travail.

Her ribs sank low, her hair uncoiled, her lips half-parted, soft with creeping mold,
He leaned within her sweet decay, his soul’s last hope forever disavowed.
But love-defiled earth betrayed the flesh it struggled long and fiercely to uphold,
The angel’s base gave way in grief—its fractured marble groaned aloud.

Then stone fell heavy—upheaved yet resigned—the angel obelisk proclaimed doom,
Its marble wings lay shattered wide, their cry a dirge that mocked the churchyard’s distant hymn;
It crushed them both—lover beguiled and bride enshrined within one tomb,
Now wedded fast in death’s still calm, beneath love’s ruin and its tender balm—
Entombed eternal within Earth’s solemn womb.