The Red Slayer's Widow

The ivy creeps on the tower
in stealth to the highest window
where kept in a stony bower
waits the Red Slayer's widow.

Her silver hair
and dark eyes glare
and glimmer in cold
and shadow.

Far below in the dungeons
of the Keep of the White Prince,
the grind of terrible engines
makes the old woman wince.

Through withered years
the sounds she hears
unspeakable fears
evince.

In far gone days she gave
her tender heart
to darkness, and from darkness
shall not part.

Red Slayer's widow, lament.
The blue-silver moon
and the owl on the mere
your doleful accompaniment.

The love that she remembers
for her ill chosen one
still glows in her mind like embers,
and has turned her heart to stone.

Still she remains,
and hears the chains
in the cold dark depths,
alone.

Red Slayer's widow, lament.
The blue-silver moon
and the owl on the mere
your doleful accompaniment.


8.25.13