The Altar

He stands at the Altar,

Knowing what happens next-will falter,

His teeth gleaming in the sunlight.

Inside-his heart puts up an undying fight.



She's stood there, beautiful and pristine,

Cool and fresh as listerine,

She loves this man, She loves him so

Little does she know how low he will go.



His heart crumbling under the pressure,

Waiting, knowing, wanting-all the lesser,

A sugar coated quinine,

Someone should tell her what should be seen.



She beileves he's good and pure,

No one can tell her otherwise, she's sure,

The other side of the coin so dark,

Something that will be left on her soul as a mark.



He loves another lady,

All this marriage a sham and all shady,

He's left with no choice

Is she called Louisa, Liz or Lois ?



She cries tears of joy,

Clueless of him and his dark ploy,

The want, The need and The greed,

This man's demonic nature is like a seed.



A seed it is, a seed it will remain,

Married though he may be,it'll always be a strain,

He does as he pleases,

One,two-he'll have as many main squeezes.



The Altar is a sacred space,

She respected it in all her white lace,

He came there with malice in his heart,

And malice it will be to her-just like an infected dart.