The Groom

The beauty of fate
is what binds us together.
It sews you and I into the fabric,
well, what little is left, that makes
the remainder of our humanity.

 

You are the needle that weaves,
makes a single puncture
into my heart.

 

I have tasted the ambrosia
of a love that is both
blood-stained and saccharine.
I drank from the poison of romance.
It infatuates, completes a broken man,
for every man should have their bride.

 

I want to take the hand
with this power over me.
I will do the right thing,
and call you my wife.

 

My forever.

 

I will offer you my temple,
my lamb on the altar,
for we shall build our family
from passion's fire.
Give to me your love;
I will give you the world.

 

Allow us the chance to live, my Darling,
we are meant for one another
as soul mates; we are puzzle pieces.
Give to me what I deserve - 
what we deserve...

 

Together.

 

I have longed for the perfect wife,
the one that fills a hollow soul.
Although a woman's work is never done,
this man's pursuit is never won.

 

Isn't that right,
my beloved whore?

 

Say "Yes", Dear.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741