Sorrow and Spite

She wears her hair in curls,
around her neck dangle black pearls.

Her skin frozen snow,
her eyes black depths of perplexity.

She walks the cold church floor,
eyes sparkling, dancing in the darkness.

The sounds erupt from
her throat, through her parted lips and echo
through the empty corridors.

Dancing with doves, the moonlight plays across
her delicate face.

Gloomy days under the sadness and hate
of life, and why bother?

The white gown she wears, it flutters under
the winter sky and ribbons they fly through
the air.