She was the poem which went astray

tossed and crumpled in an out tray

close to the shredders in time

 

She married a ruler

who carried a staple gun.

Enjoyed buffing and filing

her manicured, painted nails

perfecting a faded half moon.

 

Together they eloped

stunning their envelope friends

sealed their loved with stamps from above

protected by doves and angels.

 

It mattered not what others thought

fate had brought them here

destiny theirs to make

Eternity would bide its time

death would decide whether

they bathe in the beauty of heaven

burn in the fires of hell

their will, their lives undone

or if they would continue to walk

among the living dead.