The Eye of the Temptress
Weary of sleep, I trudge on and on
Finding no haven, the last remnants of hope gone
When suddenly I see an inn embracing the bay
“Descend here at ‘The Temptress’”, it says
At the very entrance is a portrait of a mistress
The place, they say is named after this temptress
But alas! She is no more the writing below the portrait states
So saddening are the words ‘Late Miss Mary Brace’
I enter and order myself a gin
The temptress’s beauty plundering my mind like sin
Gin after gin, down my throat it flows
Outside the wind and storm bellows
With time I feel someone’s gaze upon me
I turn back and it is a figure in black it seems
Clad in a veil, hidden in darkness
Mystery emanating from her in all its bountifulness
She gets up and prepares to leave
Midway,halts in her trail, looks back and beckons me
Hypnotised I follow, the gin making me sway
I try and see her face but to no avail
Her footsteps echo against the earthen floor
In symphony with the thunder outside that roars
She turns a corner and a flash of light falls on her face
But all I can see is her eye, a sparkling green jade
Familiarity strikes me, I have seen her before!
With no answer, my mind is rattled to the core
When she slowly lifts her veil
My heart threatens to burst when I see it is Mary Brace!
She hovers in the air, her frame surrounded by a glow
Before she finally disappears in a whirl of mist and snow.
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