Ladywithaquill

A Murderer’s Tale

“Murder him, indeed I did,

Overcome with fear then I hid,

I told myself, it was his fault,

He shouldn’t have stolen from my vault,

It wasn’t just about the money,

Once upon a time I used to call him honey,

But then he left me all alone,

Broke my trust and left me torn,

Found him in the arms of another,

She was a friend of his brother,

Didn’t he think of his son?

Before he went and had all his fun,

I saw some jewellery on that skank,

Bought from the money in my bank,

That last straw made me snap,

I was done with all his crap,

My rage knew no bound,

Leapt on him like a hound,

My anger flowed as his blood,

I dropped the knife with a thud,

And on my face the horror showed,

As his blood streamed and flowed,

From this dark deed I was haunted,

Wasn’t revenge exactly what I wanted?

I needed to hide, but from whom?

His mistress lay unconscious in the room.

It was from myself I had to run,

I searched and found the hidden gun,

It could silence those echoing screams,

Which would forever haunt my darkest dreams,

Wait! Had I forgotten my lovely child?

With his eyes bright, and his hair wild.

Before my mind his face flashed,

My hopes of eternal silence were dashed,

And she, his darling, who lay faint in distress,

To this crime, had been an unwitting witness,

But I could not let her go alive,

In my mind a terrible idea did just arrive,

The shocking events had created a haze,

I decided to set the house ablaze,

It seemed to be the perfect crime.

A secret lovers’ getaway in summertime,

Got tragically interrupted by a gas leak,

In this plan I couldn’t see a crack or hear a creak.

Now that quite a few years had passed,

I went to the police that I had outclassed,

As a mother, my duty I had done,

Nothing surpassed my love for my son.

A good man, he had grown to become,

But my time for repentance had come.

I surrendered, 20 years of prison time,

Pled guilty, I was way past my prime.

And with this my rhyme has come to a close,

Now I write stories, poetry, and prose,

About the weather, love, and everything else,

And sometimes even about magic spells.”