Walk the aisle
On my way to death
Flowers hanging above the alter
Marry the truth
Divorce the lies
Hands holding a single black rose
The thorns twisted and sharp
The audience is dead
Watching me as I turn and bow
The groom lies in a crumpled pile
Drained of blood
The white carpet beneath him wet
With his last bit of life essence
Pushing back the black veil before my face
I whisper I do into grooms ear and smile
A wicked wedding
For a wicked bride