Black Widow’s Bluff

A marsh full of mist    
And mysterious fruits  
A thicket of brambles  
Serve as my roots.  
   
My branches are bare  
Ancient and prone  
I cannot bear children    
They would be stone.  
   
I found friendship, however  
From the village beyond    
I saw her the day that  
She washed in the pond.  
   
With wails of a wraith  
And blood on her thighs  
My old heart cannot handle    
The way that she cries.  
   
I was shocked when she sensed me  
Perhaps she was too  
She approaches, unafraid  
But unsure what to do.  
   
Extending my branch  
Though the comfort is cold  
She accepts it with thanks  
Unlike many, I’m told.  
   
A silvery flash  
The slowing of time  
If I didn’t stop her  
The crime would be mine.  
   
Felling a branch    
On her poor little head  
I take the knife from her hand  
And swallow my dread.  
   
Wrapping my branches    
Over her limbs    
I keep her asleep    
Until the light dims.  
   
She awoke with a gasp  
And started to fight  
Until my voice serene  
Appeared in the night.  
   
“Young woman, you’ve suffered    
More than enough  
Lure your abuser  
To Black Widow’s Bluff.”  
   
“Then run through the trees    
And return to your home  
Under your house    
There is a porcelain comb.”  
   
“Lay the comb atop  
The dirt of my grave  
It will protect you  
Your mind it will save.”  
   
“But how do you know this?”  
She asks with a frown  
The question recedes as    
She looks at the ground.  
   
The horror she witnessed    
The terror I am  
“Whoever has done this    
Will be certainly damned.”  
   
“You know who has done this”  
Came my angry reply  
“NOW DO AS I SAY  
SO WE MAY TARNISH HIS LIES!”  
   
My voice fills the marsh  
As she sets to her task  
When she return
I see naught but a giggling mask.  
   
The porcelain comb  
She drops at my feet  
Eyes rolling madly  
Her lips will not meet.  
   
“I cannot, in good conscience    
Use this in your stead  
You needed it more    
And now, you are dead.”  
   
“I can not go on  
I have to give in  
He’ll be dead before me  
This is my win.”  
   
“I have a better idea  
I want be friends    
Make some room, will you?  
For when my life ends?”  
   
I giggle with a madness    
Cultivated for years  
Gone is the loneliest  
Deluge of tears.  
   
I ripped my corpse from the branches    
Making some room  
As soon as she sleeps    
I visit her groom.  
   
Laughter in the trees  
And fear in his eyes  
I whisper his name    
As he painfully dies.  
   
I will never admit to YOU  
What I have done    
Imagine him, though  
It was amazingly fun!  
   
Returning to the girl  
She’s as good as her word  
She giggles anyway  
She is finally heard!  
   
Ever after, we talk  
…rotting, reminiscing forever  
Not to mention plotting    
Our future endeavor.  
   
Rapists, be warned    
We have nothing to fear  
With your blood on our faces  
Our minds are finally clear.  
   
   
Sleep well.