The price, a short narrative poem

When Death
Stepped onto the ground
He approached the woman
With the palest skin.
She would be his First Seal,
His first undoing
In the name of the Forbidden Father.
His steps
–hollow but steady–
Echoed around the
Filthy surroundings.
He stopped in front of her
And admiring the light in her eyes
He asked her:
“What have you done to not be fit for His plan?”

The maiden
–with her white dress
And her dark hair–
Retorted:
“I loved the boy who never loved me back. And I ate his heart.”
“Ah! A melodrama! It’s nice to kill the romantics first. Now, for my love dance! ”
And with the snap of his fingers,
He turned her into ash.
The woman covered the earth
With her grey pearls
Among trash.

The Horseman laughed
And causing volcanic eruptions
He shouted
Gloriously
“The price of waiting to be loved.
Dust to dust.”

~A

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