Well before you read this poem, its better if you understand the story, its about this young lad, who has immense faith in love. His wife is sick and is on her death bed, a sage suggests him to collect a herb from the woods…which could be an answer to her cure. However, he worries that he might loose her on his way to the woods, and opts to stay beside her. He believes that love and faith has more power and not any herb. The poem is interspersed with dialogues (which i have highlighted)…so it might get a little confusing.
Green highlight = Young man
Blue highlight = Sage
Death by faith…
His anger grew,
Because his faith had been true,
Wish he’d considered the sage and gone the way,
Where the greenest forest lay,
His raging tempers not yet calmed,
He remembers his now crushed fate alas.
Her eyes were heavy laden,
Painfully lay the dusky maiden,
Once the fullness of her lips,
Now seemed ailing, pale and ripped.
The sage suggests the herb, her cure,
That rests near the woods rivers pure.
I leave naught her,
The jitters I feel of loosing my love new.
But the sage retorted, dare to comply,
If you fail she will die,
My years of service hasn’t seen so strange,
A beauty in my midst, never felt so pained.
She needs me here,
It is better beside her, I fear,
Her death away from me,
Will kill my soul and stoned I’d be.
Risk is a failed belief,
My fate I rely and not the herbal leaf.
The dusky maiden twitched with ache,
Her face transpiring an end she could not forsake.
You gutless knight,
How can you stand the death of your bride?
If I were you I’d twist her doom,
I would run to the green forest before her life sank in gloom.
My act isn’t craven,
I seek now just by her, my haven.
No two worlds can shake my faith,
Loved we both, when they spat hate.
My heart says she will not go,
We are not players of a romantic folklore.
But all of a sudden he cringed with fear,
His heart jolting as her end drew near.
She forced to raise her brows,
And skillfully smiled to hide the agony that death aroused,
A tear slipped her eye,
As she shut them forever with a sigh.
Spineless monster, with her life you played,
For the maidens loss I blame your belief and faith that now dismayed.
The herb would be a magic,
You ought to have shunned this tragic.
Sit, wail and weep,
As this wise sage now takes leave.
My vision a melancholy tale,
My convictions trampled and nailed,
Love sought I, to heal,
And how wounded it makes me feel.
My dusky maiden I lost,
This is was what my cruel trust in faith cost.