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.