Lush, green meadows beyond punctured skies,
Balloons of every shape and size,
Golden hues masked by glory,
Suppose the people have no worry.
Dashing across the wooden floorboards,
Children giggle and swing their swords,
Imaginations that drive them wild,
How I wish I were still a child.
An ease about my sister's face,
The maidens prepare to tie the lace,
I suck my breath; I hold it in,
My wedding dress makes me thin.
Buxom priestess with wary eyes,
She eyes Death and speaks true lies,
Death doesn't focus, for she is healthy,
Despite the fact she's born too wealthy.
Oblivious cheers the crowd does act,
When Death kisses me, my eyes go flat,
Soul born into the world and soul taken away,
I was a stranger since my first day.
My sister's eyes I catch with mine,
Wordless gaze, mute goodbye,
She speaks to me with a hushed breath,
'My sister has courted Death.'
And so I have.