A Faithful Wife

 

I swallowed thirty sobs by the pure angel’s newborn child.
I told her that she lied when she had promised not to die,
For she had bled out while I danced
And now our child was solely mine.

I bundled up the tiny one, held it close to my cool heart,
Felt it stir and mew for comfort, but I feared I’d fall apart.
I travelled close upon the ground; fell among the littered streets,
Held that child against my breast, felt the tears upon my cheeks.

A lantern danced before me then, shadowed faces gathered round,
Many muttered, whispered, frowned,
But I still gazed into the eyes of my sweet child
And felt I’d drowned.

The voice of dark authority whipped its sultry dance about me
And my arms were gripped and lifted from the child.

I heard a cry escape me, like the scream of some foul beast
As I was separated from the child who shared her scent, at least.
The weight of many hands upon my arms was soon too much
And I collapsed amidst the tatters of my gown;
All hope was lost.

I lay there; felt the tears like torrents flow,
Wished that I were dead for the cruel fate I’d let my sweet child go,
Dreamt that he would never know the truth of his so tragic birth,
And grow.

And slowly, tears dried up and my cold face composed itself for life,
As doctors and cruel nurses gave me draughts which would for ever keep me from all strife,
And promise all involved

The quiet

Of a

Faithful wife.

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© Fionyac