Her red dress rustles, but bride is still, 
‎Groom drinks his cup, for her he'll spill. 
‎A painted face, a gentle lie, 
‎Pinned where her true eyes used to cry. 
‎ 
‎We bow together, slow and deep, 
‎My clumsy hands her balance keep 
‎She's leaning on me, light as air, 
‎A fragile dream beyond compare. 
‎ 
‎Wine she don't sip, a crimson stain, 
‎Flows on the silk like silent rain. 
‎The sugared plum, a wasted treat, 
‎Falls softly down before my feet. 
‎ 
‎Where is she gone, my heart's delight? 
‎Between the shadows and the light. 
‎Beside the Springs, a lonely soul, 
‎Or sleeping deep beneath the knoll? 
‎ 
‎Perhaps within that tablet small, 
‎Or doll that crumples, doomed to fall. 
‎This paper bride, this empty shell...
‎It matters not, I love her well. 
‎ 
‎And all that's left is memory's gleam, 
‎Forever bound to me in dreams
‎By seams unseen, eternally, 
‎She's mine, and I am hers, you see.