Revenge of the Maiden
Behind her grey eyes madness laid
Her stockings dingy and dress torn
She was the widowed maid
A look on her face said she wasn’t forlorn
She reaped her husband’s death
Her fingers tightened around yarn
The maiden watered her false baby’s breath
Skeptically she glanced around her barn
Revenge seeped into her un-royal mind
The maiden’s lungs seized as she saw the priest
She knew she would be killed or undermined
As the knife sunk in, a sequence of sounds came out then ceased
Her blank and dull eyes then came back to life
She wiped the rusty blood from the knife