the lass, the oak and a tragic love story

Some say it is my best so far...and i do not disagree.

Once, not long ago,
in a city that bled;
A young lass, so pretty a face,
on her wedding night fled.

An oak in the park
had marked her love since first.
She waited there with longing
and a heart that was going to burst.

Minutes slid by to hours
no wheels screeched to halt.
No knight in shining armour.
Oak burned at love's fault.

Stars soon departed
and night left tears on grass.
With flowers was the body,
the lass,undone by love.