The Man in the Black Hood

Ciseri,_Antonio_-_Die_büssende_Magdalena_-_1864Mournful, yet calming, she sang
Soothing, a song, whispering on the wind
Soft, sorrowful, soulful
Carrying from her tender lips
Entrancing, lulling all that passed near
Women wept
And hard men veiled misted eyes
They labored under heavy loads
Hauling wares and with trudging carts
They inched ever nearer
Nearer the sweet singing
But dared not touch, dared not speak
And kept eyes cast down
Away from her, away from her
Whose delicate hands grasped iron bars
From whence behind
Her angelic face cast no blame
And flowing hair the color of tear-stained hay
Wrapped itself around, to cover her shame
A strand over her brow,
Curtaining innocent countenance
And through the tresses
Her voice still coos
To the despairing and the despondent
The subjects of a princess beloved
All hearts are darkened, dispirited, broken
So even the man standing by
With trembling hand on large broadsword
And black hood tucked in his belt
Dreading, lifeless to his task
But knowing that to waver
Would only bring another
Who might not be as swift
As accurate, as painless
And he strains to avert his angry eye
From the court of heavy laden crown
Of jewels and scepter which are no treasure
To the wearer like unto his daughter caged below
From which he must choose between
The innocent multitude of his realm
A decision, a burden laid upon him
By the robed figure in shadows
Who unlike the others
Cannot hear the song
But as the servant of a Papal Father
Only hears the pulsing blood of promotion
And the jingling of gold coins
In a purse lined with blood and condemnation
Of the inhabitants of this Mother Earth
Who refuse to embrace his god
His church and its inquisitions
He hears not the lay
The lament of one condemned
For refusing to pay homage
To worship the idol
The symbol that hangs from priests neck
So now her own is bared
The delicate smooth neck
For the swords sharp edge
Drums roll and soldiers cry
And a Kings judgment fails
His paternal heart dies
As whistling sword sings
Church bells ring
The clergy man smiles
At the signal of triumph
Church bells ringing
And his damned soul falls
To follow the wrong god because
The man under the other black hood
Never heard the singing


The Man in the Black Hood — 8 Comments

  1. What a tremendous, riveting, mournful cry of deliverance. The Papal did indeed rule in those days, the Kings were often puppets to them. The axeman obeyed or else he was chopped as well, there was very little mercy shown or given to those who did not worship the god that hung around the priests necks. Man./woman or child was not spared for not worshiping their god,. I loved the strength of this work, you delivered it beautifully in your artistic tone and color. Bravo, well done.

  2. Nellieanna I apologize for not responding earlier. I am finding comments that I didn’t know were there. I need to adjust my notifications.

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