• Clad in black, his suit pristine
    A young man stood, tall and lean
    Over the corpse, he would shed a tear
    This beautiful body of his wife dear

    He ran his fingers through her hair
    And kissed her lips, such memories there
    Her eyes were shut, her lungs at ease
    The young man wept and fell to his knees

    He asked whoever wished to hear
    “Please bring back my wife, so dear.”
    But no one answered, not one spirit cared
    He knew he must do what a mortician never dared

    He stood slowly, his heart beat slow
    His hands were shaking, his hopes were low
    The young man picked up his needle and thread
    And inserted said needle into her head

    His heart, is beat at a quicker pace
    As all sorrow showed upon his face
    “Why”, he thought, “does life end so quick?”
    “Why can’t I keep her, it makes me sick…”

    He pondered and sewed her eyes and lips
    And cried a tear for every stitch
    He loved her so, he always would
    Even after she passed, he knew he could

    He smiled and wiped the tears from his eyes
    And kissed her once more, a final time
    He picked up the corpse of his lover, and said
    “I love you my dear, your death I do dread.”

    He placed her cold body inside of the casket
    He fixed up her hair and placed his tools in a basket
    He shed one last tear and his hand he had slid
    To the top of the coffin and slowly closed the lid.