(Please co-operate the non-canon crossoverness in this poem. I've tried to make it as Tim Burton-esque as possible. Also, if you haven't seen the movie, Victor is the name of the young man the bride marries by mistake.

Enjoy!)

THE PERFECT MATCH

You all know the tale

(If you don't, then you should)

Of the Corpse Bride a young man once wed in the wood.

It didn't turn out well, misadventure took place

And in the end the Corpse Bride abandoned the chase.

But this lovely cadaver, this exquisite stiff

Still longed for a gentle, sweet man to be with.

One mortal was charmed by her bluish-tinged curls

But instinct soon turned him to- er, livelier girls

Some simply dreaded taking her home to Mother,

While some found her needy and tending to smother.

Still Emily waited, so patient and sweet,

And wondered about the man she'd one day meet.

She ventured to Paris, stayed in catacombs

And had pleasant conversation with walled-up bones.

One day, pretty Emily sat with a sigh, and asked

"Is there no one for a corpse such as I?"

The bones of the catacombs conferred for a while,

Until one announced "I know someone your style!

Emily, dear, see the Opera tonight!

Go look in Box 5- there, you'll find your dream fright!"

So the Corpse Bride went off in search of this man

And the bones waited for the success of their plan.

"Good lady," said the usher- then he shrieked in alarm

For he had touched Emily's skeleton arm.

She smiled her fine smile that went right through her cheek

While the usher stood shaking and babbling and weak.

The hallway was clear on the way to Box 5.

There was no-one to stop her, dead or alive!

She twisted a doorknob and entered the Box,

Drew back the curtain, as swift as a fox.

She stood and she stared at the back of his head.

His stillness was such that she hoped he was dead.

He rose in disgust at the shabby display

Only to find a dead fiancée!

She reached out a hand, and he only could stare

As mysterious wind tossed her blue-tinged hair.

He groaned and he fled through a door in the wall

The Corpse Bride still followed, bouquet and all.

She swam through an underground lake to his lair

Until she found the man who was living down there.

"Who are you?" the man asked with some hesitation.

"I'll be your bride!" she replied in jubilation.

"My name is Emily. They call me the Corpse Bride.

I don't mean the cause panic," she woefully sighed.

"I've waited for years for someone like you,

And the catacombs told me that you'd love me too."

The gentleman nodded and said, "Please sit down."

Emily nodded and looked around.

"My name is Erik, alias the Phantom.

You want theatrical tricks? I'll plant 'em!"

"That sounds intriguing," said the pretty Corpse Bride.

"But I can't help but notice you're masked on once side."

"It's nothing," said Erik, with an audible moan.

"Trust me, you'll get used to living alone."

Then there was a flash of the Corpse Bride's pale hand.

She pulled of the mask. Erik shouted to beat the band.

"Oh, please let me see you!" Emily begged.

"I could readily pay with an arm and a leg."

Erik looked at her with his face there to see.

But the result quite delighted Emily.

"Oh, your hair is so thin and your lips are so thick!

And it looks like your nose was cut off at the quick.

And look at your cheek, so melted and gashed!

I have to tell you, sir, you've made a splash!"

Poor Erik was stunned at this gorgeous zombie.

In delight he proposed: "Be my wife, Emily!"

Emily blushed such a sweet shade of blue

And whispered to him, "I will always love you."

With Christine forgotten, Victor cast away,

Erik and Emily had an underworld wedding day.

The dead won't marry the living, unless, of course

The bride's a Corpse Bride, and the groom's a Living Corpse.

FIN