Unraveling

Fickle Lady Death

They adored her bones,
Enveloped her form in thick plumes of cigarette smoke.
Offerings of exotic, rare blooms,
Polished stones of Amber,
Feathers from the wings of great birds,
Blood-red wine,
Her toothy smile still and knowing,
The dark hollows of her eyes watching them scramble at her feet.

Please. Please. Please.

They asked of her their truest desires.
She gave in a silken dream,
Fed them what they wanted,
Lush, green happiness.

And that dark-haired love of theirs fell,
Dust shooting from the ground
As her lovely face struck the dirt,
Went still,
Cold and gone.

Look to your wealth for comfort,
Look to fill your heart in your reflexions of gold,
She told them.

It all turned to water,
To ash,
To "Why?".

— Fickle Lady Death