Til death do us part.
We vow.
...
A cloak of purity isn't a saviour to all.
A lamb must be slaughtered,
heed this call.
You vow.
...
If the blade of impurity is what you seek,
stained hands must see these bones bleed.
Shall you not bear this sin?
...
A sacrifice must be made.
Let the Deathly Hallows have their way,
a prey that shan't succumb to be your game.
...
Til death do us part.
I vow.