A Wedding Lament

His was a shrill and ill tuned instrument
For his god. That horn did brassily prick
With thin and needling notes what was meant
To be a faultless parchment and too quick
  Did turn an exercise of love into
  An exorcism for his own devil.
  Love's sermon was tortured there and those two
  Bridal bound voyagers had no revel.

The blessing that needed to be spoken
Should have come from a kinder man than this.
Now, what was poorly fired has been broken.
Shards, instead of vessels, line the abyss
  Between this once happily joined couple.
  What good came from this minister's trouble?