When raindrops fell from the ill tempered sky,
Melting into the ferocious waves of the deep blue sea,
The King of Burgundy was cast away to a castle of the forgotten.
The two brothers were vivid shades of the same colour
Yet the first of the three, discarded by fate and taunted by Fortuna,
Got the short end of the straw.
A throne for eternity plagued his future, yet in a world without color, what good was a Kingdom?
Soil of no life and souls of no essence endlessly roam the Asphodels
And he felt subjected to this fate.
What awaited a man, with a yarn of existence so deep a red?
Whose entire being was made to accommodate the lost, the old, the mindless?
He stirred up the earth, anger and rage befitted him.
His brothers undeserving of a life so pure a blue, yet he imprisoned to the underground
But there was more to him he could have ever imagined.
She was like him— a tint of red, yet softer.
She was the blossoms of a tree, the gentlest of spirits
Matching his aggression with her calm, his stubbornness with her fierceness.
She dared to look the devil in the eye as she slipped the bitter seeds of the fruit of undead into her mouth.
A smile played on her lips.
He was enraptured, tied to her forever
She was the thief of his heart, soul, and hearth.
She had lost it all to gain him
And now he could see colours
Plants began to bloom in the land without sun.
Author: Suditi Mukadam