My Draft

Alone in the old house she lived,   

So old that nobody recalled,    

A tale only old blind men remembered-         

Only one bearded man that had seen it all,      

It had once been pretty it was told,       

In the house lived a family big and tall, 

To the villagers they seemed private and cold,

With one exception little Eli Pervalle.

She was the sweetest girl you could come across,

She skipped along the village streets that were covered with moss. 

Though obedient by nature she was,  

The dark dark woods often beckoned to her,

But her mother's stern voice recited the laws,    

She was never supposed to go past the first fir.     

As years went by in peaceful monotony,        

Eli grew up, a woman she was soon to be,

Now though her body grew up,        

The same could not be said for her mind or her heart.

One day with the rising sun she turned four plus twelve,

She ran along and paused in front of the woods,      

Not a young girl no a young woman now,     

She believed she could handle those demons well,

Wondering about what the dark actually held,  

Into the pitch dark she went listening to every sound,

Lost in the thought of the story of red riding hood.   

Later at night the village was in turmoil, 

young Eli was nowhere to be found,  

They ran and ran to come back with news and their finds,

Soon enough the family in sorrow was drowned.   

As the sun came out a week later,      

They searched and searched but to no avail,

They moved a month later for the worse or the better?

And here starts the second part of the tale. 

 

- Madhul