Funeral Pyre
Living in the creek’s dark caverns, he was content with his homestead.
His dwelling place had been foretold
by fairytales on nights so cold.
A promise of the things to come were all that kept the fires fed.
Living in the creek side village, things were over simplified
her place was clear within the clan
to bind her with this darkened man,
to brave his ire and heal his wounds with love’s laughter and lullabies
Raised from birth to play a lead role. All sorts of nonsense in her head.
Her path was clear, her marriage set,
a passive life, a quiet death.
All was foretold when she was young at village fires and children’s beds.
She’d sat awaiting years and years, ready for life to move onwards
Shortly before the marriage day,
a woman came from far away.
Her tale of women taking stands and shunning the foreteller’s words.
The lady, she was not convinced. Her life was not to be excused.
By love she vowed to seize her place
and heal the man with love’s embrace,
thus avoiding the funeral pyre. Dreamers dream, they usually lose.
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