The Well

The poor little girl
With her hair straight curled,
Went to the city well
For oft, she had heard
Of the wonders that there dwelled.

In books unfold and her friends had told,
How a paradise lay on the other side,
And how the fairies took good little girls for a charming and merry ride.
The little girl prayed to the God’s above,
As into fantasies her childish mind dove.

The birds stopped singing and tall shadows of the houses loomed,
The clock striking an hour was what brought her to be doomed…

An ancient spell had been brought to quake,
Leaving the girl startled in its wake,
The waters in the well gurgled to life as
The girl’s innocent stare grew twice as wide.

Her mother and father and her brother and sister,
All cried in unison from down the cobble street,
As from beneath the water, came,
Something sleek, dark and putrid…

The rotting stench filled the air
And the girl froze on her tracks,
So did her crying family, gazing at the long-lost and sinister black.

The girl screamed in frightful tear,
As monstrous hands crawled out the well,
Grabbed her by the waist, dragging her
To the horrendous and petrifying hell…

Her family stood still as dead,
As their girl passed from their sight
And from the deepest hollows below,
They heard as a raspy voice broke –

“Sans life, sans sins
The village has well sacrificed,
Sweet young girl, sweeter heart,
The sweetest maid with flaxen hair”

Said the voice and disappeared with its triumphs
And now to your town he lurks and comes…