The Golden Bird And The Dark Horse

This tale below of true love
Is most strange in its path;
‘Tis of a beautiful golden bird
And a mysterious dark horse;
Contrary as can be,
Yet so similar indeed.
 
She was sweet
And kind, and caring,
The fairest damsel to be seen
In all of Scotland,
She lit up the moor
With her bright white smile.
 
He was somber
And bitter, and shady,
With scars full of stories
Running across his build,
They were left untold:
All were ‘fraid of him.
 
But even in contrary times,
‘Tween contrary people,
Love can bloom;
And so it did,
For the golden bird
And the dark horse.
 
All were against it;
Well-meaning, they told her
It would end in sorrow,
She would come crying back;
She told them, “I love him,
He loves me, and all else is naught!”
 
But love blooms like a rose,
Innocent in the bud,
Easily nipped by worldly shears;
But, unlike rose, when in full bloom,
One can try all they might
But it shall not fade.
 
He told her he isn’t safe for her,
She must stay in this town
And give her hand
To a more honorable man than he;
He held her one last time
And rode off into the night.
 
She was broken-hearted;
She swore not to marry,
And held fast to her oath;
She passed her days in solitude,
Tending the inn by light
And calling her love by night.
 
But one late eve, thirty years hence,
Came a cloaked traveller;
He rode right up to her inn
And knocked on the door;
When answered by her,
He simply lifted his hood.
 
She stared, not daring to believe;
He stared, not daring to forward;
But at long last they stirred
And she pulled him close to her,
Only to hear a gunshot ring
Through the deathly still night.
 
He slumped, dead, in her arms,
She was as if in shock;
They never found his murderer,
And she was never well again;
Till one day she passed away,
Quite peacefully, in her sleep.
 
And so the golden bird and dark horse,
Albeit not on Earth,
Were reunited once more;
For in contrary times,
Between contrary people,
Love can and will bloom.