The Rope Broke
The Rope Broke
By: Aundrea Methvin
Standing in the pouring rain
His hood pulled up, the warmth barely affecting him
As his sorrow engulfs him
Tears streak down his cheeks
He holds a single rose
Two centuries have passed and still he mourns
They had battled, hell, he still bore the scar from the freshly forged heated sword
Yet he loved her … still loved her
Even if the only proof of her was this stone carved with 1666 and the word Hung
She had been condemned, and he had been at sea
His foolish mind had been yearning for gold, yet his heart had been given to the blacksmith’s daughter
Now he weeps for what could have been
Yet in the wind he smells the scent of Sweet Clover and Hawthorn
His heart skips a beat as he desperately looks around
Then he sees a shadow move just within the ruins of the forgotten cemetery
She stands and smiles … What did you think that I wouldn’t wait for your return?
He drops to his knees, scared to move, scared to blink
Surely this vision with her hair in the wind was a break in his mind
Her hand caresses his cheek as she leans in and whispers “The rope broke.”
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