The Widow's Willing Victim
Standing in a field filled with stones,
I heard the sound of a funeral song.
Hiding behind an old oak tree,
I peered through a Widow's web, just so I could see.
As they dropped her young groom in the dirt,
I thought I saw a tear, I know I saw a smirk.
She held a rose in her hand from the Devil's garden.
As she placed it on the ground, I begged her pardon.
I followed her bread crumbs down a deadly trail.
How long will you mourn before you lift that veil?
You can stop the facade and all that crying.
I'm all in, to be with you I'm just dying.
8/13/19
Copyright © Wren Rushing | Year Posted 2019
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