Trust

It’s cold, dark, rainy.

Where did the sun go?

I look at the sky in question,

But it just stares gloomily back at me.

I wring my hands, purse my lips,

And I pace around my chamber.

Is this an omen, a sign,

Telling me not to go?

But I must go.

I must leave.

I cannot stay here anymore.

He must be worried about me now.

He will wonder where I am.

“Be it rain or shine, you must come,” he’d said.

“Or I will have to come looking for you.”

Oh, but he cannot come here!

I must go.

I must leave.

I can’t let anyone see me.

I hide my face in the hood of my cloak

As I step out of the house, cautiously.

As though in protest, the sky opens up

With a bolt of lightning – startling me momentarily.

Within seconds, I’m drenched,

But I cannot stop now.

I head out on foot, shivering –

Whether out of cold or fear, I do not know.

It takes long, but I reach the place,

Drenched from head to toe.

He’s waiting for me in his carriage –

He’s waiting for me.

My heart swells when I catch sight of him –

He’s the only one I trust now.

He pulls me close as I step into the carriage,

Encircling me in his arms.

I settle down in quiet contentment,

Knowing that the danger has passed.

I am finally free now,

Finally free to be with him.

It is only then that I hear the quiet, metallic sound,

And feel the dagger pressing into my neck.

But what – I have no time to think

As I feel the sharp slash across my throat.

Intense pain.

Too much blood.

Numbness creeping along my body.

The last thing I remember is that cold gleam in his eyes.

And then, there’s nothing.

- - Rhea. B

22.08.10

(Honestly, this started out as just a poem written on the rainy, gloomy weather. Don't know how it managed to turn into some sort of a medieval tragic story.)