SHE WAITS
Oblivion, gaunt whore with hollow eyes,
Who yet when painted seems a blushing bride;
Whose welcome to the wretched seems sincere.
And at such times her unexpected guise,
Of gentle maiden, flushed with virgin pride,
Serves well her purpose and her prey draw near.
Why seek to look beneath the bridal veil -
What matter if you spurn the proffered prize?
Insatiable, yet patient, she will wait
Till limbs grow weak, and senses start to fail.
Then shall she be upon you, mantis-wise,
Who like the mantis true devours her mate.
So, ere your travels lead you to her bed,
Consider all her conquests, then decide:
Has any man found Love as true as Death -
Or any man her kisses sweet denied?