Haunting

Who's wrath did I incur

on this,

the 5th of December?

'Tis the day I find

a mark, most unkind.

Claiming me to be a whore,

a red mark placed upon my door.

 'Tis untrue!

A blatant lie.

In truth,

I knew I could not stay.

I knew I had to run away.

When the sun falls from the sky,

Before the moon can light the night

I will take a horse from the farm

So that none could do me any harm

Before my plan could come to play

Three men captured me and made me stay.

Their faces hidden by the night

and I ,unwilling, began to fight.

They ripped from me, all my clothes

leaving me completely exposed.

I struggled, as they forced me to the ground

Screaming, hoping someone would hear the sound.

If they did, I'll never know.

My body now, covered in snow.

My blood is spilled all around

My haunting screams, the only sound.

Forever to be known as "the whore"

all because of a red mark

placed upon my door.