Betrayal

Betrayal

“I promise you,” her suitor said, “I’ll soon return and we’ll be wed.
But please, let’s consummate our vow and prove our love, right here, right now.”

She’d be his wife; there’d be no sin. She nodded as she’d given in.
And thus she did, there by the brook, succumbed, as he, her virtue took.

And after, washing hands and face, as though removing every trace,
He kissed her cheek; he said good-bye. “I’ll be back soon, so please don’t cry.”

So, by the brook, she paused each day, through April, then the end of May.
She waited; days and weeks went by as grass grew tall and corn grew high.

It seemed, he’d sown his seed as well, beneath her skirts appeared a swell.
His handsome face, his charming smile, she had not recognized his guile.

But now, she realized her plight. He’d robbed her of her wedding night.
She’d been disgraced; a fool, a whore. “This child and I can wait no more.”

Back to the brook, where once she’d lain, her thoughts were filled with rage and pain.
She found a stone of hefty weight, then closed her eyes to meet her fate.

She held her breath; she struck her head. The waters of the brook swirled red.
The maid thus died, the babe unborn, alas, no suitor came to mourn.

The water of the brook splashed on; the maiden’s blood was washed and gone.
But still, the water flows each day and waits for sins to wash away.


Written for “The Elementalist Contest”
The prompt for this poem was to use the following quote as inspiration:
"Filthy water cannot be washed." - West African proverb.

I based the actions in this poem around a source of water, a brook. The water serves many purposes - an absolution of guilt by the suitor, as he washes his hands and face; a source of hope, as the maiden waits by the brook for her lover’s return; and lastly, as a loss of innocence and then despair, as the maiden returns to the place of her betrayal and takes her own life.