Here Lies Mary Thomas

Crouched behind the marble stone,
The grave robber set his sights,
Upon the grave of a young woman,
Illuminated by the moon's silver light,

Fresh roses lay upon the dirt,
Her engravings had been scrubbed clean,
"Here lies Mary Thomas", it read,
"Still with us in our dreams",

The grave robber allowed himself to smile,
He pictured her rotting corpse,
Touched the headstone with stained fingers,
Promised that after this, there'd be no more,

He picked up his shovel and started to dig
at the ground above where she lay,
At last; a glimpse of the coffin
that had already begun to decay,

After a strenuous hour, the hard part was done,
He hauled the casket out of the grave,
Gave the lid an inspection before fetching his axe,
And smashed through the wood; all the way,

At last, he set his eyes upon the beauty within,
(An almost fresh one, buried only two weeks)
He stroked her dark hair, pulled her out of her box,
Over his shoulder, and out the graveyard he sneaked,

At home; set upon the cold table,
The stench was terrible, the neighbours would complain,
But not until after his deed was complete:
Not until he'd played his awful game,

Looking at her pale face, he pictured her smile,
And the way she had felt in his arms,
He looked at her brittle hand, saw the ring was gone,
And suddenly wished her great harm,

Unzipping his trousers, he stole her modesty;
This time she wouldn't refuse,
Again and again, he blessed the silence,
As her lifeless body, he ruthlessly used,

Ray Thomas never asked Mary to leave him,
And he certainly didn't want the divorce,
So he took his revenge upon the woman who left him,
From the angels; he asked for no remorse,

With the deed done, he started smiling again,
Of all the nights together, that had been the best,
Placing a peg over his nose and climbing into his bed,
He closed his eyes for a well deserved rest.