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.”