The diamond was cursed
Beholden to the gold
It was inevitable from the start
The marriage would turn cold
She obsessed about the dress
His bow tie was so distracting
All those eyes upon their backs
While the priest was re-enacting
A fairytale he did recall
Before his solemn vow
To never make the same mistake
His father made somehow
All the secrets in the chapel
Were threatened to be exposed
When the bride decided to say “I don’t”
And the sentence not imposed
Wisdom cannot be chained
Because of man’s persistence
She knows too well about
His need for her existence
Yet he swears to keep her low
Within his mighty wall
She is not to be a slave
At his beckon call
Icy metal and cold stone
Does not a union bind
Nor some formal ritual
Etched inside the mind
Give her back her space
Don’t rehash your Eden story
A woman does so represent
The power of God’s Glory.
Ciera S. Louise c. March 12, 2005