Her eyes lit up like fire.
Her breathing sped, her gaze was fixed-
She reached, but Twas out of grasp.
She cursed and tried again.
If only she could be be freed-
From her eternal ball and chain.
She drug it with her, where ere she went.
For to slave was all she'd known.
But it mattered not, she'd honed her skills-
This world was her home.
With practiced hands, she stole her meals.
With a fluid tongue, she lied.
Remorse had never touched her heart-
Twas synthetic tears she cried.
Day by day she roamed the streets.
She knew no rest at night.
She groped about quite clumsily-
For she'd never seen the light.
A tiny cell with bars of iron,
Was where she laid her head.
No life, No purpose, No means of joy-
You might even call her dead.
So there she stayed, with no way out.
And no desire there to be.
For alone, death cannot revive itself-
It has no ability.
Then a flash of light came bounding in.
She screamed and turned away.
The iron bars flew off their hinge-
Turning brittle, as if clay.
Then she saw him standing there.
A man she'd never known.
Fresh blood stained his hands and side-
He said, "we're going home."
He walked to her side, she shied away.
He bent down, by her knee.
With both hands he grasped her shackled chain-
And broke it easily.
He pulled her into his strong arms.
His blood stained her clothes.
She looked at his face and trusted him.
He smiled, then arose.
He carried her in his capable arms,
Walking o'er the remains of her cell.
She felt something inside her heart.
Hope? She couldn't tell.
She fell asleep within his arms.
She rested peacefully.
When she awoke, she was in a place-
She'd never dreamed she'd be.
In an ornate palace, in a spacious bed.
He knocked and then came near.
With a warm cloth, he washed her face-
Removing every smear.
He washed the dirt, he washed the filth.
Her smile slowly grew.
She took his hand, looked in his eyes-
And said, "I trust in you."
He left the room, rushed down the hall.
He ran to the king's side.
With a confident smile, not a doubt in place, he said-
"Father, I've found my bride."
His man in waiting began to stutter.
He spewed, "what do you mean?
Don't you know the kind of girl she is-
The things she's done and seen?"
The king, his father, only smiled.
He said, "what say you, son?"
The young man stood tall and addressed his dad-
"Yes, I know what she's done."
He said, "I saw her in that cell.
I watched her in that time.
But I've paid her debt, I've brought her out-
And, dad, I've made her mine."
The king stood and embraced his son,
And the planning soon commenced.
Nothing could match the joy she felt-
Over these events.
The days drew shorter, till that final one.
When his bride she would become.
She stroked the special wedding gown-
Gently with her thumb.
She recalled the night he'd talked to her.
About why a bride wore white.
For purity and holiness-
From walking in the light.
She'd rebutted that, and claimed her past.
For from darkness came her life.
She drudged up all her history,
Every old moment of strife.
He took her hand and calmed her speech.
He said, "don't you recall?
I brought you out, I made you clean,
I saved you from that all."
"Now in my eyes, and those of dad's,
You're as clean as clean can be.
So when you walk toward me, down that aisle,
It'll be in purity."
Her eyes, in tears, recalled that time.
And with confidence, she knew-
That brides wore white for a special reason,
Because of him, her too.
That special day, now hours away,
Had her heart filling with fear.
She slipped on her gown, and breathed in deep-
Time was drawing near.
When then she heard her name be called.
And there it softly was again.
She knew that voice, recognized the tone-
Darkness, her old friend.
It came to her in small steps.
She hesitated to turn.
For in her heart, a desire still-
Like an ember, did it burn.
Darkness grabbed her by his voice,
And then he caught her gaze.
She went to him with a familiar urge-
Not a protest did she raise.
Partway in, she came to see.
She realized what she'd done.
Her man's face flashed within her mind-
Shattered from her "fun".
With tears, she threw Darkness out.
But her breath caught in her throat.
For on her gown, Darkness stained their time-
Every deed he wrote.
Her wedding gown, once pure and white,
Was now stained with his black.
It would shout the weight of all her shame-
And incriminate her slack.
She ran to the sink to wash it out.
She scrubbed with all her life.
She hung her head, as tears poured down-
She could never be his wife.
The stain was not any lighter.
She hung her head in shame.
She was thinking of him and her great unworth-
When he called her name.
Her breathing came in rapid bursts.
Her heart beat in her chest.
She had to run, she had to flee-
No longer could she rest.
So in her gown, now stained with black,
She fled her dressing room.
She went out the back, down the stairs-
And ran right into her groom.
He grabbed her shoulders, she pulled away.
He turned her to look at him.
With one quick glance at her tear-stained face-
He knew it must be grim.
She was sobbing now, no words would come.
But the black stains said it all.
They told her tale, they screamed her wrongs-
They mocked her judgment call.
She took both hands and hid her face.
She sunk down to her knees.
With a heart of grief, she looked up at him-
And cried "Forgive me, please."
Remorse overwhelmed her soul.
Her tears fell on her gown.
She didn't notice that he'd come close-
Or that he had knelt down.
He took his hand to lift her chin.
He looked her in the eye.
With his other hand, he wiped her tears-
Until each cheek was dry.
She started to speak, but her words fell,
As he drew her to his side.
His love for her glowed on his face-
As he said "My precious bride."
The wounds he suffered, on that day,
Now scarred and rough to him;
Were like a harsh reminder of her past-
As his hand brushed her skin.
She could've run, she could've lied,
But she loved him more than that.
So she spilled her guilt, she told her shame-
The whole and heinous act.
When she was through, fresh tears had come.
And she said "Don't you see?
I've wronged and grieved and betrayed you-
I am not worthy."
He grabbed her hands, looked in her eyes,
Then he spoke, soft but sure.
"My precious bride, yes you've done wrong."
His statement focused her.
He said, "But do you recall,
How messed up you were then?
I cleaned you up, made you like new-
And I'll do that again."
"My love, you've been redeemed.
You're debt was great, that's true.
But I bought you back, I've brought you out-
I have paid your due."
"There is not one thing, that you could do,
For which I didn't compensate.
And you could never do a single thing-
To make me abnegate."
"My love for you, has always been,
And it will always be.
And it will always be.
I've forgiven you, both then and now-
So come, and trust in me."
He helped her stand, took her inside.
Then she changed out of her dress.
She gave it to him, to wash out the stain-
She hoped it'd 'least look less.
While she waited, she thought of him;
And all she'd put him through.
Moments later, he brought it out-
It was clean! It looked brand new!
It dazzled white, so brilliantly.
It was like no stain had been!
She looked at his face, and there she saw-
The most love she'd ever seen.
For in between two scarred hands,
He held out her gown.
And thanks to him, a wretch as she-
Would soon wear a crown.
-Elecia Hoffman, September 2017
Beautiful!
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