A beautiful, seemingly quiet night,
Faeries dancing in the white moon's light,
Once sparkling eyes now are so cold,
And now we shall see what lies unfold.
Not a sound pierces the darkened clouds,
Only silence screaming so very loud,
A still body lying on the floor,
As a hooded figure walks from the door.
A scythe in hand, a cloak adorned,
An illusion of perfection stolen and scorned,
Fear, a mask, hidden behind,
life itself is never kind.
Throats slashed, bleeding profuse,
A hangman's hanging from his noose,
An infant childe's birth unborn,
The lovers' lives now torn.
The demon sitting on his throne,
Laughing aloud, his plans unknown,
Tragic pasts, future uncertain,
Now he's rid himself of his heavy burden.
Her last breath leaves her chest,
a coldness creeps upon her breast,
The unborn babe's wails will haunt the town,
Unless someone brings his killer down.
The mother's sweet breath is in the breeze,
Sometimes you can hear her laughter in the trees,
But one warning you must heed,
Never go to the cabin where she bleeds.
Your soul will be taken to the devil himself,
Ask anyone, they'll tell you themself,
"Time can only tell the evil taken place,
but the rumours say she looked Death in the face.
So he took her life and the babe within,
Just to punish her for her father's sin,
He kept her locked in a tower they say,
Until she found a lover-a fay.
He gave her love that her father never would,
He gave her love that a lover should,
He filled her heart with warmth and care,
A love she never knew was there.
That is, until her father found out,
And he knew where to find her lover, without a doubt,
He went to her room and saw him there,
Killed him instantly, without a care.
So when his daughter sobbed in pain,
He threw her out and told her never to come back again,
So she lived alone within the wood,
Until Death came, carrying his scythe and wearing his hood.
She died while in delivering her first childe,
But the pain was too much and she died in style,
Too much blood was lost and her heart stopped beating,
Her life wasn't worth completing."
So once her soul can rest in peace,
once she can be released,
Believe me when I say this story be true,
Because she may come after -you-.
Aura by Lina Shankar
Poetry » General Rated: T, English, Words: 417, Published: 12/31/2000