Mortis

By Dhruva Nandakumar

People die in love, but here is

the story of a girl who fell in love with death.

Mortis

His cloak that razed the sanguine soil

The Lord of Death, of ruinous rage

Ajar flew the timber doors,

As he thundered across the hall abrade

At her ivory eyes, he froze in lust

Nectar trickled her aureate brow

Her shadow of amber, her anklets of jade

The infinite strands of her ebony braid

Sinclair her lips and satin her drape

The glint of the garnet that shelters her nape

Of rubies her bosom, emerald her lure

Motifs of henna, crimson her lips

Galas of topaz that garland her hips

The grace of her cavort and flight of her flit

Of opal her honor, her virtue of lime

In musings of darkness, a wrinkle in time

'Why pledge this trinket of unending faith

Before a lifeless idol of clay?'

Soothing his rhythm, alluring his tone

My sparrow of hazel resides in his throne

'Why sing his ballads, his transient chimes?

Why stay obsequious to dolorous hymns?'

I'm the maid of his valor, a daughter of fate What can you furnish that he can't create?

'Armors of iron, of sable your halter Signets of copper to drizzle your altar, The garnish of vivers with exotic spice Oh mistress of Luxor! I won't suffice Perhaps, I can only provide

A morsel of bliss, a fragment of rain A docile caress to extirpate your pain The moon for your fables, coitus of dyes The kohl of Satara to darken your eyes'

Macabre, his smile traversed her sight and frail in chastening light, she gaped As fear fled her lustrous breath,

Her pious soul dissolved in death

By Dhruva Nandakumar