The Belladonna of Killer's Wake

She lay alone on the forest floor,
Fetor cleansed by petrichor,
Fairest skin made fairer more
By crystal dew and icy hoar.
Homely hair, tangled and torn
With solemn face framed at the coeur
Donned blood like petals for décor.

Gone was all her impetus,
Denied her was the will to live,
From her bosom rose a crucifix –
The blade, crossguard, handle, hilt
That pierced her heart, now distent
By rain and earth and cruel intent 
Where once swelled pride 
And love and innocence.

To her once an oath was sworn
But that suitor's limerence was scorned
His love was hatred and nothing more
And thus he vowed like once before
To steal away the burden born
Of the passions he had borne – 
Now the bond was quickly shorn
From two lovers, now forlorn.

Still a bed they share beneath the pine,
Needles, grass, and flesh entwined,
Bones soon overgrown with vine.
Lovers once, and still, divine;
Share an embrace while lost to time.

Ash to ash and dust to dust,
Blood to blood and blade to rust –
Infatuation turned to lust
Had destroyed the one it loved.
The rain would wash away the blush
Of beauty reduced to bile and pus
By a monster made by his jealous
Rage and passion, love corrupt.

Yet the maid would rise anew,
A violet vine from her breast grew
With bladed leaves of crimson hue
And bloom and berry, midnight blue.

The creature never himself forgave
So returned to the maiden’s grave
And found there vine of deadly shade 
Growing where the body laid.
His hatred finally gave way 
To guilt for she whom he had slain.
That black berry he would take,
From darkling fruit a tea he made,
A wicked brew he darkly drank –

In those curséd woods he sealed his fate
While blood-red leaves, mocking, swayed
With winds of Time, to avenge the maid
In that grove called Killer’s Wake.