A Beautiful Life; A Beautiful Death

She awoke in the dark, with the moon in her eyes.

She'd taken a chance; she'd been foiled by king's spies.

She rose, and drew the quilt over bare shoulders.

Without it, she doubted she could feel

any

colder.

On it: children cavorting in meadows, chasing butterflies bright

and sunbeams stark yellow.

Her lover drew near as she clung to the bars:

eyes tired from crying, heart heavy with love.

"Don't falter," she told him. 

"How can you say that?"

"I know He will call me, my soul from the slat."

"Come hither," the guard said. "'Tis time for your throat

to be cut, to be marred. Please, miss, leave that coat."

On the scaffold she lifted her head, and soared far above

the terrestrial crowd, so entrenched in this land

that they viewed the sleigh ride

from one world to the next

as a punishment fair

for the sins of a girl who

simply

stole

bread.

This wasn't the end

for she knew what it meant.

A beautiful life

and a beautiful death.

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