The Carriage Wheel

"Her screams drowned by the ramble beneath, drowned by the sound of the Carriage wheels...."


I caught the glimpse of her eyes,
As the train halted to a stop,
Her hair, silken black, shining,
Divine beauty, etched by gold.

A tear escaped her eye, with goodbyes,
She alighted, a righteous air by her,
Infront of me she seated, wiping a tear,
As the carriage chugged slowly, moving.

I read her face, flawless and vibrant,
As she sat reading a book, a paperback.
Then our eyes met, a smile, a conversation,
The melody of her voice, ringed in my ear.

She could talk, and she did, as we chatted,
Birds and trees to start, then came life,
Daughter of a widowed mother, she spoke,
Spoke with a vigour beyond her age.

She was young, but wise for her age,
We talked on, as shadows grew long,
The night came, and shadows disappeared,
And soon the sleep was upon her.

I watched her sleep, gently in her dreams,
As I sang her a lullaby, of a long lost prince.
And she slept like a child, as my eyes sparkled,
Sparkled with satisfaction of an evil deed.

A gentle smile curved on my face,
As with the knife I carved her grace,
Her screams drowned by the ramble beneath,
Drowned by the sound of the Carriage wheels.

Soon morning came, as I alighted at the station,
A bloodied knife hidden in my pocket,
Her silver necklace dangled in my arms,
As I bid farewell to a girl wise for her age.