YK (18-10-1993 / Leeds)

A December Night

On one cold December night,
And the moon is high in the sky,
While everything’s lit up by a supernatural light,
Where no one passes by,

There stands a gloomy castle,
Where she drew her last breath,
Her life was to much of a hassle,
So she followed it by death,

So after her death they closed it down,
And left everything to rust,
They had only left her wedding gown,
Her life was ashes to ashes and dust to dust,

So she lived and so she died,
She was never able to be a perfect bride

by Yasmin Khodaie

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