The Black Widow Poem by Payal Priya

Amidst the densest forest, in the darkest night.
Where on the forest floor the vermin creep
And in the sky only ravens fly
Lies the body of a lover
Rottening as the day passes by
Blood still oozing out of his heart
His corpse slowly the vermin gnaw.

By his side lies our black widow
With not a word, tears rolling down her eyes
In the silence of the night
Loudest the cacophony of her heart
She ran that dagger through his heart
And smeared her hand with his blood
The heart which loved her all the more
His love for her, was his life
Was that blood, which now oozes out of his corpse
And taints the dry leaves of the forest floor

She asks not for redemption of such a sin
Nor clemency for such a crime
No serpent would be so sinister
To pour the venom of her wrath
And use her fangs,
To betray a love so sublime.
In the darkness of this awry night
Haunted by the iridescent memories of the past
Now she wails, now she cries

She misses his shoulder, where rested her weary head
And his arms round her, which made her feel safe
From the malice and wrath of the world
In his bosom protected she stayed
Her happiness was all he wanted
And not that she loved him any less
His joy, his pleasure were her only cares
There world were not words but love speaks
Where every promise till their death bed the lovers keep
Their love in itself a sacrosanct, a sacrament.

And then came that fateful day
When love gives way to suspicion, and fades away
The fear of loss, frees the brute in you
And then love, a feeling so divine,
Loses its elixir, and decays.
It was in the influence of this feeling
As if instigated by thousand devils and a hundred imps
She changed the beauteous sea of love and trust
Into a windless desert which now extends to eternity

What won’t she give to forget that day?
When to have a look at her,
Fighting the storm her lover came.
He knew his beloved was not fine
And that with his songs And earnest words
He would make her smile
But in her anger she did not hear a word
And stabbed his heart not one or twice
But twenty times


His last words,
Were how he loved her now and then
And that he didn’t repent
His love for her,
Which was truer than all truths
And more precious than any gem
He was happy to die in her arms
As that was the only place where he found solace
He admired the glow
Which the victory of vengeance had brought
And made lovelier that loveliest face

And then her fits of anger came to end
But it was too late.
Now bathed with acid of her sin, she burns and bleeds
The prick of conscience, more painful than any incurable disease
Like the trident of Shiva pierces her soul
The vermin on the body of the lover
Eats her flesh
The acid corrodes her soul
Thus motionless, sits beside the loving heart she killed-
Our Black Widow.