Wind tears and rips over and through my hair

The cool damp smell of forest moss grows

Caressing gently over my shoulders bare

As I run from my fate awaiting like the gallows

The thumping of my feet beats against the ground

Leaves and roots tearing at my skin and bone

I leave him and everyone else back there dumbfound

At the altar in that church of cold alabaster stone

Dress of white turned muddy brown

Future husband alone and abandoned

Because for her I’ll gladly step down

She wrote that she would be by the river bend

There she is right there in my tear stained sight

And for once my future seems almost maybe bright