16.4.14 Elenore Rose

A myth doused in red
will scar this town into believe that each man
can find his love in the castle of Victoria
upon the name of Elenore

Witch or queen history does not remember
What is remembered is her beauty
What is seen is her form in scarlet

Memory is what it will take

Men come and go
and thousands can be heard screaming
for when the test is failed the ghost will haunt
You will be her lover who watched her die
You must relive the past
and cry on the ever green coffin
Weeping the name of Elenore

Entering the house of her’s will bring a storm
The lightning will reflect and burst red not white
the scream will be heard but a whisper
Silky and sultry at first
Second loud and blood curdling
The chase has begun

In the tale the woman sentenced for witchcraft
Yet with the beauty of a queen you follow
It is unknown whether royalty or right
You will see none of her guards
No accusers nor murderers
Just her stumbling, struggling
In a red mist, her form seeming naked

She will not stop for you
She will run to her death

You will cry upon her ever green coffin

Stop Rose
Your Thorns will not Pierce me


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