Wounded By Love
© Surazeus
2018 05 25
Stopping on the hill in the pouring rain,
he stares at the cottage nestled in trees
where firelight from the hearth glows in the window
uncanny flicker of aching despair.
His mother and the farmer who raised him
sit together silently by the hearth
and listen to the rain splattering the roof
in steady roar of horror and acceptance.
Pushing open the door from gusting wind,
he enters the sheltering warmth of the cabin
and stands before the farmer and his mother,
clutching the sharp knife he found in a grave.
"You always beat me with a stick till blood
burned hot under my skin and in my head
but I never understood your grim hate
because fathers never beat sons they love."
"My mother sent me to the herbal witch
who lives alone in the huge mountain cave
behind the waterfall to buy the potion
she needs that will soothe the pain in her bones."
"The old witch with eyes white as the full moon
told me the strange true tale about my birth
that harrows my heart with fear and weird joy
that her son is my real father, not you."
"When you were young my mother loved the son
of the witch, while the farmer loved my mother,
so my mother slept with the son of the witch
which swelled her belly with life of my soul."
"But when the tall handsome son of the witch
vanished without a trace one afternoon
my mother married the farmer at church
and gave me his last name when I was born."
"But when I grew older my face transformed
to imitate the face of the lost man
so the farmer beat me with the oak stick
and told me often I am not your son."
"While digging for truffles on the river shore
I found strange skeleton buried in mud
and the old witch fell to her knees and wept,
clutching the skull of my father her son."
"Now I can see strange vision in my eyes
how the farmer killed the son of the witch
in jealous rage and buried him in mud
so my mother thought he abandoned her."
"I found this knife in the grave of my father,
the knife you used to stab him in the heart,
so now I have come to exact revenge
and destroy you the way you destroyed him."
"You can beg her forgiveness all you want,
shrieking you loved her more than life itself,
but you can see by the shock on her face
that she now knows you for the fool you are."
Hurling the knife so it stabs in the wall,
he clutches the hair of the farmer tight
and shoves him outside into the cold rain
then shuts the door and sits by the warm fire.
He holds his trembling mother in his arms,
caressing her gray hair with gentle strokes,
and smiles when the farmer in pouring rain
howls in horror and rage at his dire plight.
"Tomorrow we will visit the old witch
for she is the mother of my real father
and I want to learn secrets of her art
so I can heal people wounded by love."
© Surazeus
2018 05 25
Stopping on the hill in the pouring rain,
he stares at the cottage nestled in trees
where firelight from the hearth glows in the window
uncanny flicker of aching despair.
His mother and the farmer who raised him
sit together silently by the hearth
and listen to the rain splattering the roof
in steady roar of horror and acceptance.
Pushing open the door from gusting wind,
he enters the sheltering warmth of the cabin
and stands before the farmer and his mother,
clutching the sharp knife he found in a grave.
"You always beat me with a stick till blood
burned hot under my skin and in my head
but I never understood your grim hate
because fathers never beat sons they love."
"My mother sent me to the herbal witch
who lives alone in the huge mountain cave
behind the waterfall to buy the potion
she needs that will soothe the pain in her bones."
"The old witch with eyes white as the full moon
told me the strange true tale about my birth
that harrows my heart with fear and weird joy
that her son is my real father, not you."
"When you were young my mother loved the son
of the witch, while the farmer loved my mother,
so my mother slept with the son of the witch
which swelled her belly with life of my soul."
"But when the tall handsome son of the witch
vanished without a trace one afternoon
my mother married the farmer at church
and gave me his last name when I was born."
"But when I grew older my face transformed
to imitate the face of the lost man
so the farmer beat me with the oak stick
and told me often I am not your son."
"While digging for truffles on the river shore
I found strange skeleton buried in mud
and the old witch fell to her knees and wept,
clutching the skull of my father her son."
"Now I can see strange vision in my eyes
how the farmer killed the son of the witch
in jealous rage and buried him in mud
so my mother thought he abandoned her."
"I found this knife in the grave of my father,
the knife you used to stab him in the heart,
so now I have come to exact revenge
and destroy you the way you destroyed him."
"You can beg her forgiveness all you want,
shrieking you loved her more than life itself,
but you can see by the shock on her face
that she now knows you for the fool you are."
Hurling the knife so it stabs in the wall,
he clutches the hair of the farmer tight
and shoves him outside into the cold rain
then shuts the door and sits by the warm fire.
He holds his trembling mother in his arms,
caressing her gray hair with gentle strokes,
and smiles when the farmer in pouring rain
howls in horror and rage at his dire plight.
"Tomorrow we will visit the old witch
for she is the mother of my real father
and I want to learn secrets of her art
so I can heal people wounded by love."
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