I had a dream once. I was walking towards my husband to be, Dressed in black, Fashioned in distress. I walked to him, drenched and scarred. Down the aisle I went, And his smile was plastered on tight. But I knew a mask when I saw one. He slid the ring onto my finger, And I felt the burning gold embed itself into my skin. He said his “I do.” And I was left with mine. It would seal my fate, My life, My happiness away. So I said I could not, And I ripped the sinful ring right off my finger. In pain, I did stumble. The hoards sought my head, But they didn’t know my reasoning. A monster, I will not marry. A lie, I cannot become. What was once white as snow, Darkened into a black that only he could fashion.