[Dominate]

I made my way down cobblestone streets at dawn, bow in hand
The cold and damp of night yielding to the morning sun’s slow advance
Peaking over thatched roofs and stretching beyond to the whole expanse
of the surrounding wooded hillside, dappled green and gold and tan.
I walked briskly towards it, boarskin quiver slung across my shoulder
Hopping fallen trees as I went and scrambling up moss lined boulders
My thoughts quite bolstered - I saw in the mud a cloven impression
Deer print. Potently fresh and heading upwind in a loping procession
I crept past the oaks and the chestnut trees. Feeling focussed, expectant
Assured, but under no misconception, - one faux pas and the moment was ended
I spied the velvety crown of the stag and closed in to close its existence
Waiting for the right moment, I drew - held the bow string in tension
The beast turned, exposing its chest. I saw my chance as it froze for a second
I smiled sadly, mouthed au revoir… and slowly lowered the weapon.
It would have been too easy. Unbecoming of my skill and my talent
Truthfully, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt the thrill of a challenge
I thought myself chivalrous, gallant. My walls were adorned with antlers
All I really hunted for now was the solace of the forest’s grandeur
I followed the river home, observing how its course meandered
Contemplating my own path and, as always, landing short of answers.
I kept my burdens buried below a veneer of boorish banter
All the village saw was the image of the hardened ex war commander
A hero. Adored and pampered. Surrounded by obsequious yes men
Too meek to breathe their dissentions - I was never disagreed with or questioned
You see how conceitedness sets in… but my status came at a cost
My identity and agency lost in desperation to maintain the facade
I hid my insecurities beneath a towering mass of muscle
Drifting without purpose through this town and its vapid bustle
That was, until the day that a stagecoach pulled into view
And the love of my life stepped out in her tunic of cerulean blue
A delicate face framed by tousled tresses, brunette in hue
With deep and dazzling eyes. I bet her name was Beautiful too…
Now, I’d been with a floozy or two. They were easy game if I’m honest
With my station and frame like Adonis I’d had any dame that I’d wanted
But it was clear as soon as I saw her she wasn’t some everyday broad
She was gorgeous, no question she was. But something more.. a je ne sais quoi
And when I heard her singing… well, of course I was hypnotised
She sang of wanting - more than a simple life, in that haunting chorus she improvised
I sauntered across the square to woo this magnificent creature
Brandishing a smile and a bouquet of hibiscus to greet her
I oozed my usual charm that left women a-quiver and eager
So imagine then my shock at her cool and indifferent demeanor…
Between agitation and elation, I smiled a wolfish grin as I teetered
Knowing this challenge to win her would only make the victory sweeter
Weeks passed. My passions didn’t. I stayed transfixed in her features
Burning for her… a sickness… I was held in the grip of its fever
So when she fell for another, I felt anger throb in my veins
And the fog of my rage grew thicker when I learned of his monsterous ways
I’d wanted to capture her, yes… but he had literally locked her away
And she now claimed to love him?! An obvious case of Stockholm’s at play..
I couldn’t abide this. I rallied some sidekicks, forceful with discourse
A quick march through the forest and we arrived with torches and pitchforks
I kicked the doors in, storming on inwards, straight up the flights of stairs
Up to the snowcapped rooftop… he was ready to fight me there
I drew my dagger against this animal. He snarled through crooked teeth
I leapt in determined - tomorrow was something he wouldn’t see
But in my haste, I slipped. Tumbled from the roof, mortally undignified
And as I fell to my death, in my head I heard her warbling a single line
Heard echoes of that siren’s song, that chorus that she’d improvised…
Heard Belle as she sang it - there must be more than this provincial life

Then I heard no more.

- Gaston