Poem # 14

Sorry that I haven't blogged in a while. But anyway, here goes.

Orea
Slain by the merchant's hand,
she was.
Slain by the one she loved,
she was.
Slain by her own blindness,
she was.
The ghost of Orea stands,
yes.
due to the merchant's hand,
that man.
in keeping her from eating,
oh.
the fruits of the dead,
no.
that taketh her soul.