The Fair Lady

By
They had been married not seven days,
They had yet to learn each other's ways.
But they were completely and utterly content,
Their life was a gift the gods had sent.

The lady was fair, with eyes of blue,
And a rosebud mouth of crimson hue.
The gentleman was tall, and dark, and strong,
Ruggedly handsome, lean, and long.

Their love was perfect, that's where the trouble lay,
Perhaps the gods were jealous, who can say?
For the very next day, the man fell ill,
His breathing was shallow, his body quite still.

The fair lady tended, and hoped, and prayed,
But to no avail, he passed away.
Stricken with grief, she collapsed on the floor,
Ignored her surroundings, wouldn't answer the door.

She arranged for a funeral, but she hardly knew,
What she was doing, or what she would do.
At the burial he was laid in the cold, hard ground,
While sympathetic relatives crowded around.

She wept not then, nor did she sigh,
She uttered not an anguished cry.
Only when in bed that night,
Did she sob with all her might.

Eight months went by, and then another four,
The fair lady felt she could not stand it any more.
It had been one year to the day,
Since her beloved husband had passed away.

Life held no meaning, with no one to share it,
With her husband gone, she could not bear it.
The fair lady locked herself in her room,
Where she intended to stay 'til it became her tomb.

Three days went by, with her still in that state,
The lady neither slept nor ate.
She would do nothing but lie on her bed,
Skin paper-white, and eyes quite red.

On the fourth day she felt sadder than ever before,
Her heart was broken, of that she was sure.
When the day faded, and with it, the sun,
She knew her life was over, she knew her time had come.

The night that followed brought Death to that room,
The struggle was short, it was over quite soon.
When Dawn at last crept up over the hill,
It found the lady sleeping, silent and still.

Her hair lay limp over the pillow's lace,
A blissful smile was upon her face.
Her weak and wasted body, so far from its best,
Had now found much-needed rest.

Despite the damage done to her soul,
Once more it was free, once more it was whole.
And despite her torment, despite her pain,
The fair lady was with her husband again.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback