Furrows etched deep in his sombre face,
And black sorrow shone deep in his eyes,
He took out her dress of soft white lace,
His body then shook with loud sad cries.

His worn heart broken; his love now lost,
He then knew he would die soon alone,
Long nights he had cried, counting the cost,
Since the woman he had loved was gone.

Angels had come on wedding days eve,
Then taking her sweet soul; soft as lace,
Wasted by pain, which led to her death,
They then took her to God’s holy place.

Slowly climbing the stairs to his room,
And there he took out his old army gun,
The whole house echoed with its loud boom,
For life without her, would not be fun.

They buried him there close to his love,
And on still quiet nights they do say,
As soft winds whisper ‘neath stars above
You hear their soft voices gently pray.