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.