The Flute Player's Song

In her tower she stood
Day and night
In the lone window
High above the village
She could be seen, the Flute Player
And never was the Flute Player without her flute

The sound of her flute, it filled the air
The whole entire village would hear
Her beautiful melodies,
But so sad and haunting they were
Why was it her endless song
Always brought gloom and never light?

Her flow of delicate notes
Brought so much depression
Something had to be done,
It was decided.

They tried to steal her flute,
What a foolish thing to do
Didn't they know it can't be done?
So ignorant were the villagers,
So desperate and mad.

If the flute cannot go,
Then the Flute Player must,
It was settled.
Her song brought nothing but misery and despair,
Surely the young wretch of a woman
Didn't deserve to live.
Her death day was set.

Not long after the hasty decision,
Arrows came flying
Towards the flute player's window
Arrow after arrow,
She finally dropped.
Out the window fell her lifeless body.

Sprawled on the ground,
She was surely dead,
Covered in bruises,
Pale skin and hair now stained with red,
Her dress so white dyed with blood,
A sorry sight, the flute player was.

But the villagers were cruel,
They cheered and they laughed.
The source of their pain was gone,
Never to come back!

The Flute Player most certainly died that day,
But ever since then,
When the wind blew
Heard was a melody of beautiful agony,
The Flute Player's song.