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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required ‘I wish for his head, on a silver platter’ Mother whispered to daughter ‘Go dance my love, grant me the golden trophy’ ‘I love you, mother,’ confidently She took to the grand floor Made it her playfield, a heroin They were present, among them The most respected delegates Him, the devil, to write on history walls Her veil, colour of betrayal Cheered the room, standing ovation ‘Tell us, child, what was the gift?’ Politely asked well-pleased father Her faint smile made her pale Her eyes smaller She looked across the room Had an assurance of a stern motherly nod Her eyes widened with bold smile ‘It’s Peter’s head, well presented on a silver platter’ The clock stopped for a moment for the loving father Everyone else was waiting earnestly Father’s eye fixed on daughter His face grinned, almost closing his eyes Fist strong to punch Hoping that she could advance Daughter’s head bowed down She feared for a moment of father’s Later acts, she was confident, Father keeps promises ‘This man was innocent,’ He thought, razing brain ablaze ‘His life was not to end like this’ ‘How can I modify public promise?’ ‘Can I disappoint her?’ ‘Who could influence this betrayal?’ 'This can not be her own,' ‘What have I done?’ He whispered loudly with a stern look at his wife ‘Father,’ she called him faintly Audience thirsting for the king’s action ‘Father,’ she called again In lost wonders, he didn't hear the third call ‘Father,’ she shouted she resurrected him His eyes watery still gazing at wife ‘Your promise, father?’ She asked with a tender voice He looked at her princes' well-laid innocence ‘Honour her demand,’ ordered the King This was a sleeveless errand Soldiers grabbed him, Knowing his time has donned on him He whispered a prayer ‘May this bring glory to your name Lord, For every opportunity, you gave me, Thank you’ Before he was done, his world came to still peace His termly spread, as desert-fire His community distressed, gracefully His body thrown in the dungeon Perfectly served wild cat's lunch His head, the glorious trophy Presented before the king Who directed it be given to his princes ‘Mother dear, here is the gift, you so desired for’ She bowed and left the grand Ashamed, the mother looked at the king The disappointed king reserved his fury She gazed fragile at the audience with displeasure Left hurriedly with her win in both hands She did not realize the weight she curried For it was the lightest gift she ever received In her heart, she was abased
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