Under the oak tree

He's gasping for breath,
by the forest lake,
under a oak tree,
with a knife between his ribs.

He looks at his hands
slick with red
only fear clouding his head.

And in his last moments
he reminisces about her:
her loving smile
bright enough to light a room;
curly hair dancing in the wind;
the way she looked at him
like he was the only person in the world.

He wonders
if she's there,
behind the veil watching him
with the smile he loved
or maybe with a frown
that shouldn't belong on her pretty face.

And maybe death isn't so cruel
if she's there waiting for him
on the other side.