Sacrifice for the Hill
by Hannah Rogers
Her skin is worn thin, dusted with wrinkles.
She is young in age but not in beauty.
Age marks and dark freckles look like sprinkles
but she still keeps a youthful smell, fruity.
Her occupation is not important,
but she did live her life as a realist.
Is often pretending to be content,
but dreams of being a good pianist.
The arts do not make enough money for
her though, so she keeps the secret in dreams.
She does not see it sneaks out of her pores.
The sadness and secrets break through the seams.
Her dream will not be like Cinderella.
She responds to the name known as Bella.
How do you people sleep when full of lies?
These stories you tell are not true at all.
You tell these funny stories for a prize
and due to them your life will be shortfall.
You can not action without consequence.
Do you not think before you speak or do?
How do you tell these with such confidence?
Do you understand these lies that you spew?
Life is not about finding happiness.
It is about getting things you need done.
If your days are filled with some busyness
you forget happiness, that you have none.
I had a dream once. Something that could not
- I left it in the back of my thoughts.
Dreams are for people who do not want to
go places and people who are selfish.
Dreams always leave one person, or a few,
all sad and alone, completely helpless.
Are dreams that important to you? Do you
need happiness that bad? I am fine. Look!
I have never been happy, that is true,
but the selfless road is one I still took
Now listen here, your heads are in the clouds.
These stories aren’t at all realistic.
I will tell a story for a few crowds,
but I warn it is not optimistic.
Dreamers be gone as I tell a sad tale
of how love is not worth it, in detail.
There once was a princess, ruled far and wide.
Known for her beauty, was beyond compare.
A heart full of understanding and pride.
Long eyelashes, but a head with no hair.
She was due to marry a classy guy.
Many men came to prove they deserved her.
As they entered the land, one caught her eye.
Eyes of amber and brown hair like soft fur.
Past feelings that haunted him were hidden.
Pretty boys danced in dreams, fueling his fancy.
Though his true intentions were forbidden,
he loved him for his eyes were blue as sea.
He came then as to raise no suspicion
for Sir Brant, the root of his ambition.
He knew he would lose the fight for her hand.
He was not strong, physically, as most men.
Gather his lover as secretly planned,
then they would run, never apart again.
Sir Brant, certain, insured their plan was foolproof.
Little did the boy with amber eyes know,
the princess could override any goof.
The tournament was off to the boy’s woe.
They were due to be married the next week.
Because she made her decision so fast,
the boy did not get a moment to sneak.
Sir Brant came into the dinning room last,
saw the love of his life by sister’s side
and he knew a part of his heart had died.
He held his head high, made no eye contact.
His heart hurt and ached with unfaithfulness.
The sad, amber eyed boy was taken back.
His lover’s actions left him in distress.
‘Now he will not want me,’ he thought sadly.
He could see sadness in his lover’s eyes.
He could not bare it, he loved him madly.
He needed to prove his love wasn’t lies.
He suffered through the dinner till the end.
At evening, he left his room for Sir Brant.
As he looked, he thought of a way to mend.
He found him crying surrounded by plants.
Sir Brant wiped his eyes to not show feeling.
His true emotion needed concealing.
The boy went to hold him but was pushed back.
The action made him break into a sob.
He cried, trembled into some lilac.
Brant loved him, so comfort he could not rob.
He joined him by his side and held him close.
“I apologize, truly,” the boy said.
“I do not want to marry her, but those
would hurt you if they knew that in our heads.”
“I know,” said Sir Brant. “That is the worst part,
but I love you and we will make this work.
You will have to marry and break my heart
unless we can conjure up a small quirk.”
Brant knew his plan would be hard to complete,
but their love would help them complete this feat.
“What do you propose we do?” the boy said.
“You will marry her,” Brant said with sorrow.
The boy’s face fell, filled with both shock and dread.
“Then, we think of a new plan tomorrow.”
“We could run far away,” the boy pleaded.
“And we will but not now,” Sir Brant replied.
“I will pack up for travel as needed
and we will leave after she is your bride.”
“Why after, why not right now?” the boy cried.
“Because when you go missing, are not found,
the people will then assume you have died.
Then we will be alone without a sound.”
Although he was worried, the boy had faith
“Alright my love. We will leave on the eighth.”
They held on close for a moment too long,
for the princess skipped out to the garden,
saw that to her the boy did not belong,
and at that moment her heart did harden.
“How could you? Why?” she yelled at her brother.
“Because I love him,” Brant said and that made
her so furious at the other.
The amber eyed boy became so afraid.
‘She knows now,’ he thought sadly. ‘Now the plan
will not work. Now I will not be with him.’
The thought brought tears to the eyes of the man.
The chance she understood their love was slim.
But she saw the tears and could not bare it.
She felt it wrong but she had to admit
their love looked so pure as the boy cried. Held
by her brother for protection from her
assumed rath, he looked small and her heart swelled.
She would let them love as her morals blurred.
How could a love that looked like that be wrong.
‘It can not be wrong,’ she thought. She needed
to come up with a plan to go along.
She asked for a plan and Brant proceed,
in shock but without question, to tell her
their plan. She agreed, with a condition.
“He will have to marry as to ensure
no marriage again. That is the mission.”
They agreed, and they were married later
that week, never a wedding been greater.
Then the plan started. The boy would leave first.
He would run to the hills to wait for Brant.
But the second part then turned for the worst
Brant packed his things quickly, breath in a pant,
when his father came. Many assumed he
knew more for he was not worried about
the disappearance. He acted carefree.
His father was going to call him out.
“You are not telling us the truth. You know
where he is,” the father yelled. “Tell me now!”
Sir Brant replied, “He died a week ago.
I said it before, I do not know how.”
“Why can’t you just tell the truth?” the dad said.
“If you don’t know how, how could he be dead?”
Even though it was a lie, the thought of
his lover being dead made him feel sick,
so he passed his dad to go to his love.
This angered his dad. He reacted quick.
Brant could not let this attack continue.
He needed to express some of the truth.
“I love him. That is the true issue and
I’m not sorry,” he trembled but said smooth.
“He definitely does not love you too.
He is not absolutely disgusting.”
Brant, now completely furious, pushed through.
What his father had said was insulting.
His father was going to put him in
the dungeon ‘cause it was considered sin.
Then, the princess came out of nowhere. She
grabbed their dad and yelled to her brother, “Run!”
He made the decision: to run, to flee.
He would regret leaving but it was done.
The princess was arrested for treason
and killed for her crime, but she died happy
‘cause she knew she died for a good reason.
The boys lived happily, which is sappy,
and ‘cause they never returned they never
learned of the princess’s horrible death.
Brant did not forget her sacrifice, ever,
and he would treasure the boy’s every breath.
Every happy ending comes with a price.
In this case a life was the sacrifice.