The Futile Walk
I walked past reeds and trash that showed no life
The evening shadows filled my heart with fear
Despite the urgings made, I persevered
To find a hermit who’d pray for master’s wife.
Their marriage never saw a day of strife
Fresh fish and fowl and tripe was had all year.
The enclosure’s words described his love so dear
Her illness hurt him like an assassin’s knife.
I tried to block the tears in my own heart
A prayer or two would likely cure my dame
I saw the dwelling nigh I eagerly sought
A lifeless body was in the knacker‘s cart
The hermit’s life, the same disease did claim
Great tears will flow tonight with news I’ve brought.
OPT:
The house would fill with sorrow of those distraught.
The manor will fill with sorrow of those distraught.
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