Avaricia

I chased her slithering silhouette under the crimson moon,
Her fragrance filled the forest air, and my heart began to croon.
I looked her in the face when I reached the riverside,
My heart skipped a beat, and I asked her to be my bride.

Innocence met radiance, and converged into her eyes,
Her head tilted downward coyly and refused to rise,
Softly she said, “Marry you I will,
But not before I tell you what’s for you beyond that hill.
On the top of that hill lives the world’s prettiest dame,
Her looks are a snare, Avaricia is her name,
If you ask for her hand, all you have is one chance Sir,
For a single question is all you can ask her!
Another question asked, and she will melt into the air,
So choose your question with wise thought and care.”

“I’ll ask for her hand,” I said in glee,
“No other question then will mean anything for me!”
I then ran for Avaricia, across the length of the forest,
Leaving behind an angel, in quest for the best.

I found her on the hill after an hour’s long find,
And the angel’s warning crept out of my mind,
“Are you Avaricia?” I asked her faintly,
To which she nodded and smiled briefly.
“Will you marry me?” Was my next question to her,
And in a flash of a second, her image began to blur.
When she was out of sight I knew what I had done,
I prayed in vain but I knew she wouldn’t return.

I ran back for the angel whom I had left in greed,
To make her my bride, once again I would plead,
But after another hour’s run when I did reach there,
All I saw was the silent river and her fragrance in the air.