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Charlotte of the Dead Ones
Charlotte of the Dead Ones
A story, you ask of the teller
The remains of a person long dead
Well I will give you one better
The woman who never quite left.
If you listen on some nights, you will hear her
Those nights when there’s naught but the wind
Mayhap you should chance see her figure
Miss Charlotte Anott of the dead
Back in a time so delicate
When women were pure and polite
She was the epitome of elegance
‘Til a man haunted her in the night
Miss Charlotte they said, was a woman
Before she could walk on her feel
Other girls could only try and
Be half so charming or witty.
Miss Charlotte was the girl of a lawyer
Her money was scarce, but she found,
That higher company adored her
And smiled when Charlotte came ‘round.
She had once a dress made of frills
And laces and bows and the lot
It was in it that he first saw her,
A sight that he never forgot.
This man was of low birth
A plebian in a court of kings
But in his hear he had a thirst
For the world of frivolous things.
This girl had what he sought
This girl who charmed that masters
So he courted Miss Charlotte Anott
So quickly he couldn’t go faster
He proposed after only five days
A ridiculous amount, to be sure
But his desire to become wealthy
Seemingly had no cure
When Charlotte did the thing
That was only to be expected
The man was filled with denial
And couldn’t face his rejection.
Miss Charlotte soon found another
A man of stature and grace
And when the inevitable offer was made her
She accepted with lust on her face
Not for her fiancé was this desire
This unbridled passion she owned
But instead, just like her former suitor
She craved to rule from a throne.
The wedding was held in April
And those who were there to attend
Would never forget what they saw there
The birth of Charlotte of the Dead.
The final “I dos” were said
And the groom and bride kissed
And one of the guests, her former suitor
Stepped forward with a weapon in fist
Suitor turned to murderer
As Charlotte fell to the ground
And for a moment all sat in silence
As they watched the new bride fall down.
The murderer scooped up her body
And before they could react, he fled
He ran until his legs gave out
And collapsed holding Charlotte Anott of the Dead.
Her body then began moving
Even though she no longer took breath
She’d been so eager in life
She couldn’t be clam in death.
She wanders the world, our world
Seeking to be avenged
But even after her murderer was captured
Her life after death did not end.
So watch on the dark nights and wonder
As you pull your covers up tight
Is poor Charlotte around you?
Will she watch you in the night?
The story, my friends, cannot end here
But I’m afraid I’ve no more to tell
This narrative cannot be over
Until Charlotte retires to Hell.
(But lo, I think I see her now
She’s smiling at me, pretty and bold
I think she’s begun to fade away!
She can leave now that her story’s been told.
But this time she might not come back
Verily, I hope it in my heart
Goodbyes are usually sorrowful
But I feel naught but glad as she departs.)