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Rated: E · Poetry · Folklore · #2228547
A story. But is it true?

There never was a love, as that
Of Reynaldo's for his concubine-

It was long ago and far away,
Some have said.
There are others who don't believe.
But, the tale begins on a mountaintop.
Reynaldo's Mountain
Where everyone loved him.
People would come from near and far.
Each one bringing wonderful gifts
Trying to impress Reynaldo.
They would sit and chat and
As new guests arrived the first would leave.
A constant changing of the guard.
Some would stay for days
Creating a constant hum of busy happiness.
It's said they were so content
On Reynaldo's Mountain.
Yes, those were happy times and
Everyone loved Reynaldo
So he was never lonely.
Always had his choice of the ladies.
His charm mesmerized the men.

Then, one day the happy chatter
Turned to back stair whispers.
Reynaldo had met the concubine.
Together they stole away
Within his private estate
Leaving the people outside.
Days went by...then
With staring eyes and mouths agape
The people stopped and stiffened
As Reynaldo and his concubine finally appeared.
The couple did not notice
The resentment in the air.

They were in love, peaceful as they
Huddled beneath the trees
In the wind
At the edge of the mountain
Talking in hushed tones
So close, so in love
So much a part of the stars in the sky
Intense in their attention of one another
So close, so in love...so close

The people were no longer happy
Burning acid drooled from their lips
As they spoke of the concubine.
Their hate became more hate.
Their tales became ugly...more ugly.
Reynaldo did not recognize the hatred.
He was in love.
A love like no other.
He and his concubine were soul mates.
They spoke their own language.
Never before and never again
Will two people love so much.

In time, Reynaldo saw the jealousy
On the faces no longer smiling
With eyes cast down.
The acid drooling lips boldly
Reviled the concubine
As if the deed were somehow heroic.
How could they, he thought
But listened more and more.
Their words were like seeds
Planting doubt in his mind,
Then distrust for the woman he loved.
The seeds kept blowing in the wind.
Then the wind began to howl
Thrashing Reynaldo's Mountain.
Pounding and whipping
The plants were stripped bare.
Trees were uprooted.
The concubine fluttered away.
Flying debris turned the sky dark.
... when it was over
Reynaldo's Mountain was naked.
Birds no longer sang.
The land was barren.
There was no sound except
The hiss of dust.
...Reynaldo was alone.

Some say you can hear his concubine sobbing
At night
Beneath the trees
In the wind
At the edge of the mountain
So much a part of the stars in the sky
Intense, close....so close

...and there are others who don't believe

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