Misguided Maiden (Or, Damsel In Distress) Poem by Eric Paeplow

The introductions made,
the gathering now ensconced in their velvet chairs, so began the night
From first we met,
the maiden lent not the slightest obeisance,
but odium and nothing more
Perplexed by her persona, I at once wondered,
what misfortune had befallen the damsel
The urge I could hold no longer,
fair maiden I inquired, pre tell,
is there something the matter?

Stark and dreadful was the sentiment received,
clearly was her vile hatred aimed at me
Such was the torrent of poignant, blistering barbs
that left my soul within me burning
Fair maiden, how can it be,
that you blame your woes on me, did I implore
No response given,
merely the glare of daggers aimed at my very core

The distressed damsel had aimed her abuse in but one direction,
the direction of me
A somber dirge of misguided grief and agony
cascading from her tormented soul
Anxious was I to now depart,
the night not yet over, how I wished for the morn
Yet out the window, not a sliver of sunlight shone,
darkness there, and nothing more

Reason, nor rational quelled the air,
try as I might, nothing could console the damsels despair
All at once clarity, the moment of epiphany,
nothing had I done, no blame was due me
Twas not me who had done the deeds to abhor,
that caused the maiden to here outpour
All could I now feel was pity,
the fair maidens tortured soul, lost in agony, for all eternity