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Back in the forest where the thicket can't grow
Where trees block the light from creatures below
Lives an old wrinkled man with a beard snowy white
Only he knows the reason he prefers constant night.
It is rumored he was cursed by a young witch
When he was in his youth and lived with the rich.
The curse, it is said, would cause him to die
If the light of the day should be seen by his eye.
If time could be turned to view the decades now past
We would see that he lived on an estate very vast,
With servants and maidens too numerous to count.
Yes, he was heir to a fortune of the largest amount.
But his thoughts seldom ventured beyond his estate.
He was taught that the poor were just people to hate.
So he pushed whispers of conscience far to the side.
In his comfort and pleasure he was content to abide.
Then the day came when fate would thrust open a door,
To a place the young man had not ventured before
As a young girl with a face that glowed in the night
Seeking drink from a stream passed into his sight.
He was struck by her beauty that flowed from within
To the tips of her hair, to her eyes, and her skin.
He thought " This creature of beauty so wild and free
Must be caught and be taught that she belongs to me. "
Tying his great stallion to an old tree by the brook
He followed the girl through the hills to the nook
Where many fires burned to warm the beggars and poor
A sight the young man had seen only one time before.
He remembered the raid he had made on this camp
How they ran screaming into the night cold and damp
As his soldiers horses trampled all in their path
Driving these wretches from his land with great wrath.
He had just turned sixteen at the time he recalled
And his first smell of death left him slightly appalled
But his father had praised him with shouts of great pride
Giving him the black stallion, and the sword by his side.
In the darkness he crouched and watched the young beauty
Tending both needy and sick as though it were her duty
While the fire light revealed as it caressed her face
She was a creature of peace filled with heavenly grace.
He was thrown into remorse for his sins of the past
As they dwelled in his mind his soul grew more aghast
Until there in the darkness he conceived his great vow
To make this wondrous wench want to love him somehow.
There was an immediate change in his manner and way
As he gave food, meat, and coin to the poor the next day
Returning each night in the dark to hide by a tree,
Watching the young maiden his soul learned to be free.
The news of his great change soon spread through the land
The poor came in great numbers to take gifts from his hand
And he hoped and prayed she would come soon to his door
Each night returning to watch her and yearn all the more.
His father grew dismayed by this new life of his son
At the change of the moon he decided what must be done
Gathering his army they rode out one cold winters day
To trample and kill every poor wretch in their way.
When the son finally woke and heard of this plan
He raced through the hills and he thought as he ran
" Please God keep her safe! ", but he found there instead
Her lifeless broken body amongst the numerous dead.
He carried her dead bloody corpse deep into the forest
Where the sun cannot reach is where he laid her to rest
For it was in the dark night all good he had learned
Thus he stayed to live by her grave, and never returned.
Back in the forest where the thicket can't grow
Where trees block the light from creatures below
Lives an old wrinkled man with a beard snowy white
Only he knows the reason he prefers constant night.
AFS
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