THEY DREADED MY LAST NIGHT
The wind whispers through the trees, the familiar path lies ahead.
The girl dreads her journey home in the embrace of a spring night.
The shadows of the trees stretch out like bony fingers.
Under the pale glow, their branches cling to her dress.
She recites prayers, pleading for angels to protect her,
But a black bird—a harbinger—circles above.
And from the darkness, a pair of eyes stare,
Watching its prey, seeking to extinguish the flame of her life.
”I have screamed in terror within the shadows, while
I danced in your cruel grasp.
Not many years did the cuckoos promise,
They dreaded my last night.
Beneath the swamp’s wild rosemary, I withered.
But in my white dress, I am remembered.”
”The wind howls through the trees; the forest whispers my name.
I cannot bear to see that face. I wash my hands in a stream.
When suspicions arise, I must hide the traces.
I will not confess my sins; I dig a grave for them.”
The night falls silent as the pit in the swamp grows deeper.
He breaks a pine branch and marks the grave.
The sky darkens.
Nothing will ever be the same again.