Flowers

A man takes a maiden to be his bride,
She wore cherry lip balm, he couldn’t stop kissing her.
He loved her very much, but how could he be sure she was untouched.
The father of the bride went to the city governors,
He took them many tokens to prove to them her cleanliness,
But even he had to confess there were dark unspoken half-truths in her past.
And if the maiden is not a virgin,
then they will stone her,
until she dies.
And if she’s laid with forty sailors,
Then they will lash her,
Forty thousand times.
He took her to the flowers beyond the city gates,
He wished he was the first one but he knew he was too late.
So he took her with a rage that Lucifer himself could never match.
Her red blood it fell upon the yellow daffodils,
And when at last he finished, she kept so very, very still.
In fact she kept far too still, in fact she didn’t move at all.
(She’s floating up to god, and god has open arms)