She was trapped in an endless cycle of tradition and waste,
her ideals were scorned by all,
her family and friends raised weapons with haste,
against new ideas with a rallying call.

Ilia ran far from the village, her home.
her heart and bones close to breaking,
while in an illusion of being alone,
her muscles and mind began their aching.

She stumbled into the gates of a city.
Sandy blonde hair filled with debris,
bloodshot hazel eyes were dry and itchy,
the girl wished it was all a bad dream.

Her mind grew hazy as there was no-one to be found,
her legs nonsupporting from running.
Ilia's mind faded to black and her body to the ground
which soothed her weary heart's drumming.

But as she lay sleeping just inside the city gates,
arms lifted her up off the ground.
Darkness was falling and it became late,
but the citizen hid Ilia from hunter and hound.

The young woman awoke from an unfamiliar bed
while tossing and turning about,
but the woman who found her put a hand on her head
and told her that she had passed out.

Ilia halted her panic and gazed to her savior,
friendly blue pupils glowed back.
She silenced her panting, sitting up with a quaver
while the stranger sat down with a light smile cracked.

She gave her name as Natalia with a melodious voice
while twirling her auburn hair.
Ilia shyly spoke her name and explained her choices,
her story of betrayal and escape of bad care.

The stranger had empathized offering Ilia a home,
hazel eyes looked up from folded hands,
Ilia no longer had any reason to roam
across dangerous and unfriendly lands.

Ilia embraced her heroine, weeping joyful tears,
Natalia gently stroked the runaway girl's hair.
"Welcome home," she whispered, whisking away all fear,
the chances of such compassion were indeed quite rare.

The pair was united miles away from hate,
far away from destructive tradition.
Together they lived and loved, both early and late,
brought together on their own volition.

Ilia was seventeen, nearly coming-of-age
Natalia was her elder by two years
Their love studded-passion burned far more bright than rage,
and the embers left behind smoldered red and clear.

But that sandy-haired young woman would forever be chased by memories,
a hunted heretic of her village, and the rumors were true stories.

But hardly two weeks later at the same town's walls
came chants and cries for the hiding heretic.
Ilia stood behind her love, fearing hateful calls;
Natalia vowed to stay with her through the thin and thick.

But the mob was after them and quickly gaining ground,
Ilia and Natalia were running short on time.
Footfalls summoned doom with a mocking sound,
dashing through the earthen streets, stirring dirt and grime.

They were soon cornered by Ilia's former neighbors,
family standing amongst them with weapons held on high.
Under the illusion she renounced their every labor,
the system they created she had attacked with a cry.

Trapped in the port, standing on a pier,
not a boat in sight to cross the river's water.
Aggressive swimming creatures and a deadly mob of drear,
locked away the shaking body of the villages daughter.

Just before their fate occurred, they grasped each other's sides,
their new young love fountained from their eyes.
Natalia and Ilia kissed as death approached to skin their hides,
two innocent lives taken by a town's traditional lies.

Chilled by death and still locked in embrace,
the two sunk to the riverbed in sorrowful grace.