Waltz to the Knell

Waltzing to the glory of golden bells,

He holds his Elizabeth,

Whirling her body in resounding swells,

While refusing to admit her death.

The lace of her long white wedding gown,

A remembrance of purity gone,

And the rhythmic refrain that pulls them down

Is a thrilling but terrible throng.

Elizabeth’s hair, in ebony curls

Cascading o’er ivory skin,

Entices the reaper, his cloak unfurls,

His scythe ready to begin.

Her groom ignores the call to death

Through adoring eyes of blue,

As through the flames, the reaper’s breath,

Now claims the lives of two.

A wedding waltz gone up in flames,

But a memory left to tell,

Where shadows dance on window panes,

Forever waltzing to the knell.