Toten Maar (My first and last attempt at a Villanelle)

Toten Maar

 

Pin pricks of sun, trapped specks of light,

lured her up the mica path on the day

the volcanic lake waited, black as night.

 

She never felt the air grow thin, the sun less bright,

Selbtsmord, the townsfolk would later say,

Pin pricks of sun, trapped specks of light,

 

played tricks on her mind, affected her sight.

They couldn’t be sure, but come what may,

the volcanic lake baited, black as night.

 

It swallowed her body and clasped it tight

in ice cold darkness where it lay, untouched

by pin pricks of sun or refraction of  light.

 

For a time das Bürgertum appeared contrite,    

Armes Mädel! Pregnancy can affect you that way.

The lake was exonerated and that night

 

the whispers started again, no respite,

She sinned, the Bürgers agreed, it’s the price she must pay

for seduction by  sun and the sensual light.

 

The volcanic lake now sated, blooms black as night.

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