His sweetheart’s wedding

Every once in a while in this lonely town,
you can hear a lonely heart breaking down,
amidst the chaos of the indifferent sounds,
you listen or you can try,
to hear weeping, someone on the ground.

It happened once again it seems,
again in this lonely town,
strangers who met by fate,
match’d by their lonesome states,
one left in the end,
the other fell on the ground.

But there was once something between
them and their one heartbeat it seemed,
the happy thumping of merging souls,
separate, two, but were one whole.

And now she sat in her room,
being the one who left so soon,
pausing to her mirrored self,
gazing at the mirrored moon.

Her hair was short and open-down,
flowing, smooth and so brown.
She looks down and picks them up,
golden bangles, their clinking sound.

Slowly she adorns them on,
matching with her wedding dress,
so stunning in beauty that one may stress,
is this for real or eyes’ con?

She walks down the strewn flowered path,
where stood a man with an outstretched arm,
holding it as she draws near the canopy,
with a smile and no thought of its aftermath.

And so it begins, the ritual starts,
to tether two people in lifelong sacred bond,
a little more time and one can see,
holding hands and circling with the chants,
around the sacred fire roaring strong.

Thus she becomes someone else’s now,
a life of responding to someone else’s voice and sound,
Did she wait and think, I wonder, once?
How hollow her earlier vows were!

Or how she left him in bits, astound!
I wonder if she knew or thought for once,
Did he stir, or did he move?
that man here, upon the ground?

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