A morbid turn of thought has led me here-
At night, where all the dead do rest in earth
How sickly strange the soil, knows how I fear-
This graven yard of death, and deathly birth.

To then torment myself, I visit hers;
The grave upon my heart and on my love
I taunt an older spell, a book refers:
"bring whom lay here, their spirit from above,

Let none the hardened soil halt thy path
Revive this parted soul and gift her air;
To crawl from out the deathly calls of wrath
To walk upon her ghastly bed to fair,

If this be done then I do promise thee;
My soul unto the force that gifts her 'wake,
Relinquish then this body's husk and be
Where I am deemed to whom her soul's remake".

I wait reply, with none a hope in breath,
But sweeps a gust of wind about her leaves
And there an eerie chatter out of death!
'By God!' I thought, is this to be, she breathes?

The leafage seemed to hear and then responds-
With whispers 'mongst the rustle... 'here she be,'
Without no pause, the mound implodes! With fonds-
Then whirling, whispers weeping, to then see:

Out crawls my frailed, deceased, beloved Ruth
Whose form still bears the scars of death decays,
I'm stilled by horrid screams of torrid truth
'What have I done to you?' my love dismays.

Her falling jaw with eyes of pain, now speaks....
'now 'tis below thine self must claim this grave,'
It's then do I recall, as terror wreaks;
That I did bargain then, my soul to slave.

By unseen force, I fall deep in the hole
And lay inside her coffin, ready splayed;
As still as dead, my light in life have stole
As closed the cast with dirt upon me laid.

Entombed, I scream, but none alive can hear;
By love I lived and love's me buried here!