The Girl in Red

The Girl in Red 

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Her eyes unfocussed, her lips a quiver, 

Her golden tresses floating tendrils in the air, 

Her cheeks were pale; she lurched in a daze

Down the winding highway without a care.

Stopping the car, out I stepped into the chill, 

Hailing the lady dressed in stylish red; 

Approaching her I expressed concern, 

But one look at her filled me with dread.

Her crimson dress turned a shade darker, 

Drenched in blood trickling from her wrist, 

She turned to me, a silent scream welling up, 

In my face she shoved her bloodied fist.

Pulling a crumpled paper out from her fist, 

Struggled I with her reasons, the inexplicable gist; 

But as I read the newspaper cutting through, 

My troubled eyes filled with pitiful mist.

She had been at the altar, her betrothed at her side, 

Her grand wedding- the happiest day of her life; 

The town mayor's little girl then a lovely bride, 

Was about to become a war veteran's wife.

Sudden gunshots rend the air outside, 

A bunch of neo-Nazis through the doors burst, 

Sprayed random bullets around the terrified room, 

Murdering the defenseless guests while they cursed.

Her father fell, a fatal bullet to the chest;

The groom shoved her out of harm's way; 

Trying to counter the goons, to his death he bled, 

All around the violated church dead people lay. 

Her world shattered though she survived the carnage, 

Went mute from the trauma, detached and insane; 

She was by force committed to a local mental cage,  

While efforts to bring the killers to justice were in vain.

Escaped the day before clad in the red dress,  

She had roamed the roads, her clipping held fast,  

Unable to weather the mental storm anymore, 

Slashing her wrist, she prayed for her last.

Filled with pity I bandaged her frail arm, 

A wretched soul, bereaved so young, 

Irrational hatred had again taken its toll, 

The macabre song of death had been sung.  

Driving across the yellow barren desert, donned I

A façade, a stream of light-hearted talk; eventually

In a tempest of tears, as my efforts bore fruit, she

Turned her pretty face, her silence thanked me.