Love Poem: A Mandrake's Gesture Vol. V
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Written by: Trevor Morse

A Mandrake's Gesture Vol. V

Geinere's frailty
was that of an abandoned 
child, lost in the world.
Her hurt was so that 
of anguish and desperation,
her heart burdened by
his hateful words.
His domineerance, his
drunken righteousness,
protruding as a writ 
man.  A careful prodigy
was he, as his stupor
conceited to arousal
and a display of power.

"Geinere, calm thee now.
Closer, though not
as baffled, as I, for 
you are in dear service,
fulfilling thee!  Serve 
your King graciously."
"My lord, pray thee no. . . ."
"Our bitter wench felt, 
be this night, hence everafter,
I make thee worthy, art
the entail."

Tears erupted from poor Geinere.
Her soul departing as the 
King's demands advanced.
Her innocence and essence 
robbed of her, cheated now always, 
a sullen amort.  Her woes,
her unheard cries, her 
tender virginity taken
from her, now left mad,
sadness and melancholy, 
would be her muse.  
Pain, 
agonizing sorrow, 
though unrightly welcomed.
For upon this eve of 
tyranny and degradation
a seed of humility was 
planted with no roots 
of nurturance.  The 
passion shed would remain
a scar upon the royalties
of a forgotten King
and instill a harlotry
of peasant virtue upon 
the dear maiden 
and this dire kingdom.  
As Geinere unwillingly
embraced the bastardly 
disobedience of the 
King and his dark
vespers of misery, her
turmoil greatened,
her flower taken,
her essence floundered.  
The act maliciously foresaken.

"Oh angels, plentiful,"
chimed the King,
his behemoth of 
propriety and lust 
now ripe with vigor.
"In thy hopes of your goodwill,
overpowered, as vassal
actress, a call for 
repeal."
"Begone Geinere!
Out of my chamber,
accusations found,
for I am certain, upon 
your unwanted fulfillment
of matrimony.  A 
gift of guilt for you 
hereafter!"
The night faded 
as a moon blush tainted,
fell from the heavens.