Over the River and Through the Wood

Over the river and through the wood,
A little girl walks with a bright red hood,
Not knowing what she has in store,
Knocking upon her grandmother’s door...

There’s no answer, where could she be?
She walks right in using her own silver key,
All of a sudden she’s in a cave,
Watching an old man digging a grave,
She approaches him, he turns to her,
“Can you by chance help me sir?”
He steps aside, shaking his head,
Ignoring what the little miss said,
He walks away, but on the floor,
She notices a steel trap door,
She opens it and peers through the dark,
She hears a faint and dying bark,
Down the stairs she starts to run,
She gets to a room and hears a gun...

There in the corner, she gasps when she sees,
Her mother writhing in pain, covered in bees,
Beyond her mom, she sees her dad,
Blood on his lips, he’s drunk and mad,
He raises his gun, she turns to run,
Needless to say, he shot someone,
She cannot believe he shot his own daughter,
She drops to the floor next to a pool of water...

She stops and stares at her reflection,
The blood flowing down, the paling complexion,
Struggling to breathe, she’s turned onto her back,
As her father goes to open his sack,
He rustles around, taking his time,
Pulling out tools, preparing his crime,
She looks into his bloodshot eyes,
In the distance hears her mother’s cries...

She smells his breath of too much beer,
She tastes her blood and feels her fear,
Creeping through her, destroying hope,
As her father pulls out a rope,
Thin and tight, almost like wire,
Wrapped around her waist, he lit it on fire,
She hears her father’s deep throaty laugh,
While he watches her burn in half...

As her blood red hood is flaming,
Careless of the life it’s claiming,
Just before she stops breathing,
He keeps her alive, she’s not leaving,
Dousing the flame, injecting solutions,
It speeds up her heart, creates the illusions,
She does not get quick, sweet death,
Despite her attempt to take her last breath...

From out of nowhere, a blood-curdling scream,
Shaken, awakened, from that forsaken dream,
She sees the place where her grandmother stood,
Over the river and through the wood.

MLS
3/25/12