They say there's a woman at the bottom of the ocean,

With hair long, white, floats by her side.

Though that isn't her hair of course,

It's the veil of the lonely, drowned bride.

Some say she's out for vengeance.

Some say she scours the sea,

For the man she truly loves,

But no longer is her husband to be.

For he died many years before her,

With a tree hung rope to his neck

It was the day of his wedding he passed.

Yet his soul had much longer been a wreck.

Still his wife-to-be lived in delusion,

Every day she had spent by "his side",

The dress that she wore never changed,

In her eyes she was always his bride.

But this image yet began to falter,

Her mirage slowly fading away,

Her dress began to fray at the lace,

And the once pearly white became grey.

Every time she lost hold of her fantasy,

Her make-up would streak black from her eyes.

If she drowned all her thoughts in champagne,

Then the poor girl can revive all her lies.

But one day her faith was all lost,

Her hair and dress black with dirt and grime,

Her flesh slowly began to rot,

And the wedding bells in her head forgot to chime.

So she walked to the dark salty ocean,

Barefoot, in the middle of the night.

"You will give me back my husband!" she cried,

Her tears glazing over her sight.

But the wind began to pick up a storm,

Playing with her veil atop her crown.

She lost her balance atop the cliff overlooking the ocean,

And the weight of her dress pulled her D

                                                             O

                                                                  W

                                                                       N...

Now she lies at the bottom of the ocean,

Speculating her past as she cried.

Her neck bound mirroring her husbands old corpse,

But not a rope to be found,

Because there's no ropes around,

It's the veil of the lonely drowned bride