Before the Man became Sir Bluebeard
There once was a fair lady
Searching for anything to bare
A child, a home, her bosom
Only one seemed to care
A master of black majick
A soulless, faithful man
Thus he tried to pray
Still, all purity still ran
He stays in mischief
Bathes in evil
Consumes cattle’s blood
He smelt a pungent desire, so primeval
Oh she passed by, a belle
He thought, ‘what a time!’
He spiraled after her
His first love at sight, a paradigm
She turned, her nape hair aroused
She saw an atypical man
She gasped, maybe he could…
In her head, cast was a plan
He would seduce her
She would seduce him
Everything will occur
Even on a folly whim
He reached her first
Heart pounding, fast and heavy
She slowly smiled
Surrounded by spectators, such a bevy
He took a chance
Grabbed her soft, fair hand
Held her gaze
The day to night, it was grand
He moved like a thief
One who steals in the day
She welcomed his touches
Such a price she will pay
They bore a son, not too long after
Bubbly, round and full of health
Her eyes gleamed with fresh tearful joy
Despite the new family’s lack of wealth
Isolated, on a small hill top they stayed
Whistling winds and angry storms
The new mother sensed darkness
One without body or many forms
The man did not perform black majick
Forgetting the dark shadows beyond him
“He will suffer”, came hiss, came whisper
“His new happiness and light will dim”
Stricken with dreams of death and fear
The woman was driven mad
She took her son, far, far away
Her dreams stopped and she was glad
The man came home with worry
His house disarray and abandoned
His woman left him, grief began
Dark shadows prey and chanted
Suddenly a curse began
The man’s beard long and unshaven
Turned an angry blue
His soul in utter damnation
Not one beautiful woman was an exception
He moved around and heavily feared
Not one wife ever survived
A man known as Bluebeard.