Behind the curtains shadows danced
a fight of fists, perchance a lance.
Then splattered blood I stood in trance.
I never heard the scream, I smelled
her blood, I saw my neighbor felled;
That night began, my life with hell
of lying, hiding, never take a stance.
I lived in silence, hid from him,
the husband by the name of Jim,
I watched him digging, it was grim
to watch him living, how he pranced
around and lying, how his wife
had left alone to live her life,
I knew his secrets but his knife
was sharp; I knew but only glanced.
as Jim went on to marry Anne,
I waited, watched I couldn’t man
myself to tell about his evil plans.
I cannot dare to take a chance.
Today Grace Hosts at dVerse on a form called Zéjel. I hope I got it right with the rhyme scheme and syllable count. I think I added meter also since it felt natural to write it so.
It is all fiction. My neighbors are good people, and I don’t believe there are any graves in their garden.
September, 23 2021