Lamentations by Robin Goodfellow

I breathe in your lust, as you

stumble from me, a bloody white

dress adorning your snowy frame.

Searching desperately, you call

for me, the pretty voices caressing

your mind. Forgive me, forgive me

you say many times again, as if you’ve

already forgotten yourself. Falling

to the edge of mercy, your nightmares

stare into my hollow eyes,

begging for release, as our vows

slip from your tongue. You reach

for my heart, entwine your

blood-soaked soul in mine, as those

shadows embrace our scarlet guilt.

Consumed, devoured, left for dead

and rotting, a wedding gown for the

fallen, receptions for the wandering.

But that’s fine.

Tasting my poison on you, ambrosia

from my temptations, lust gathering

near us. Say, love, pray for my sins in

our ceremony, in that chapel made of

bones and ash. Evil, I hear you say. And 

I agree.

You are evil.

Robin Goodfellow first became interested in writing when she was three, scribbling all over her parents' walls and imagining herself in old fairytales while walking in her father's garden. Since then, she has published poems in journals such as Danse Macabre, Faith, Hope, and Fiction, and Nature Writing.