The woodcutter came home that evening, bringing flowers for his young wife,
Stepping to the beat of the hammering rain.
The wife awaited her husband’s return from the deluge in the forest,
Stoking the fire with last week’s batch of wood.
The beggar hoped to chance upon food and shelter in an inviting shack,
Finding relief from the raging of the storm.
The beggar was brought before the Gates of the Dragon,
Accusing the wife of murdering the woodcutter.
An old priest had happened by the bloody shack after the rain had stopped,
Wanting to pay his respects and found a forgotten infant girl.
The woodcutter was abandoned as a baby before the Gates of the Dragon,
Crying as a priest handed him over to his adoptive father,
A woodcutter as well, while the rain washed away the land.
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