Red Swan

Prose Poem

She stares into his eyes; pools of azure bless her spirit. Like a silver chain, their gazes interlock. Together they hold visions and dreams—the future. It would be a shame to lose it all. White dress. Black suit. Her body is a blanket of clouds. She moves swiftly and lightly. She swings low and leaps high.

Her feet swivel with effortless delight under the careful watch of her lover. Her name is Queen Innocence. The man follows with haste. Outstretched arms and a cape of iron cling to his burly form. He carries his cane of gold and strikes it against the floor with his mighty essence. He will be her protection against the cruel whispers of the night. His name is King Angel.

The melody strums. A tune of assurance and determination fills their hearts with ravenous desire. They shall be together by the end of their song. Red wine, platters of corncobs and cupcakes surround them. The savories are too enticing to resist and the sweets are too precious to mar. But perhaps the sight that steals all eyes is the fountain of roses and vanilla. The cake piles three layers high wrapped in petals and fruit, a symbol of their vows—their promise.

A crystal behemoth hangs high and bright above; its teeth glimmer with wonder. Under its smile, bodies mirror bodies and shadows become reflections. Their faces are gone. They laugh and cheer, enamored by treasure troves of peace and joy. But there is one who steps in shadow. The stage is set.

Sin walks with a bloody knife. Feathers of scarlet and clipped wings, a red swan. She soars high no longer. But she does not need such pitiful amenities. No, her stride is quick and invisible to say the least. Up the stairs she goes and the guards watch the festivities below. It is a wonderful night. Slash! The man cries out with thunderous silence. The agony! But no dreadful voice could be heard. His throat split open and out flows the river of death. She paints the fortress red. Such a mark of magnificence!

Like a true thief, sin takes from the last man standing then looks on with insatiable lust. There they are! The King and Queen. Still, they twist and twirl with graceful motion. Sin watches every move. What’s this? His new lover? Sin’s vision blurs with red. With a careful eye, she takes aim at the behemoth. Iron strikes it’s form.

Wham!

Down falls the crystal giant! Its glass sprays like vengeful needles against the wooden plain. Oh how they are needles! Panic has come and the shadows flee like helpless little flies. But beside the behemoth, the Queen weeps. She is soaked in a pool of red. The angel has fallen. Sin smiles. She has claimed her revenge.