Concubine

concubine picture

In her master’s eyes she sees his favour,

A smouldered glance reveals she is the one.

Fevered touch and kiss she craves to savour.

Tonight he chooses well and she has won.

But wanderlust, disquietude advance,

Foreboding, cast aside for someone new,

Karma calls, lends only this one chance.

What is a woman spurned so forced to do?

Poisoned lips she presses to his temple,

Whispers words of loving, serves to please.

Thus patronized, he begins to tremble,

Falls, willingly, she upon her knees.

Bejewelled dagger, in the boudoir, sparkles,

Moonlight glinting in dark eyes, on fixed smile,

Planned madness, maniacal her chuckle,

His supine head, eyes glazed, gone for a while.

‘Be still, sweetheart,’ softest words placate,

Unknown end, his in comfort and in leisure,

Exquisite agony propels his fate,

Life’s end erupting with his mighty pleasure.

With ebbing breath he gasps to tell his story,

Tale recounted oft, and oft too late,

‘My love, you were heart’s one true glory.

For you I foreswore others as my mate.’

With swift recourse and gesture lost to reason

She plunges bloodied dagger into heart,

Bled with him, though mortal life was over,

Together now, in death, no one dares part.

 

Unknown source for image. Credit gladly given if claimed.

Ophelia

She drowned that day for want of love and truth

And suffered blackest depths in silken waves;

Wrapped by grieving cold, unjust of lovers,

Embraced deepest liquidity of graves.

 

Other fault of miscommunication,

Disbelief, flawed lover, by no means brave –

To dwell on words of patent jealousy;

No trust nor second chance this love he gave.

 

Suspended, in timeless vault of darkness,

Eyes closed forever, nothing more to save;

Surrendered heart and soul into river

And damned by love’s mistrust became its slave.

 

‘Sweetheart, you not once believed my loving

If so easily heart has misbehaved.

Cherish only what was held between us,

A love, time was, assumed we two had craved.’