Sweet Poison

1.) There's a feast within the walls tonight,
there's a flushed and flurried crowd,
they are drinking, dining, dancing fast,
they are laughing far too loud.

Yet their revels won't drown out the voice
that's singing down below,
and with every trickling, lingering note
they feel the tension grow.

The Baron's face distorted,
the Lady's smile a mask,
and all around an air of doubt,
yet no-one dares to ask. . .

Sweet, sweet poison, soothing melodies,
tender reproaches, luring reveries,
relentless beauty, memories
of favor rashly won,
now quavering in every heart
as the night wears on.

2.) Slender hands and slender face,
his pale grey eyes set wide -
this gentle man has never seen
a prison from inside.

His fate was sealed by singing
so he sings for all to hear,
he sings to breathe and be alive,
he sings to fight his fear.

The Lady's love, unasked for,
the Baron's wrath, unearned,
the last meal on the floor, untouched,
the last candle, almost burned.

* * *

3.) Mingled with a moonbeam,
like a promise, fair and fey,
stealing through the windows
with the first grey strands of day,

drifting through the parlours
and the minds of some who weep,
dancing with the dreams of those
who found a troubled sleep.

All the night resounds with sorrow
for a love that once had been,
Lord and Lady, lost in hurtful games
and the third caught in-between.

Sweet, sweet poison, soothing melodies,
tender reproaches, luring reveries,
relentless beauty, memories
of favor lost anon,
still echoing through empty halls
when the bard has gone.

Eva, Oktober 1st, 2003
Elfhelm the Harper, May 1080

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