The Saracen and the Phoenician

Three verses Ottava Rima.
For the challenge.

The saracen was a high nobleman
With a dark regalia of intense air
The Phoenician with his curls auburn
stood brave so carefree and tall and  fair.
And the two were men of  different turns
twas clear... none for the other did care.
One lived in deep dens of  the Sinai wild
The other by seashores  pleasantly mild.

Settlements stark of flimsy mud and clay
Temporary decaying in humid sun
A proud patriarch of temporal stay
unlike the easygoing Phoenician.
Fiercely he protected his kith and kin
From roving eyes of the wandering one.
She was born a demure pampered girl
Saracen lass for who sailor's love unfurled.

And though  care she took to veil her charm
Perchance they met and his heart was won
Swiftly he took her wary heart by storm
And ever since the two were on the run
Around and round the world  fleeing from harm
Ever since two pure hearts did beat as one...
But her brother was elder of the clan
Swore to hunt them down wherever they ran.

In Tyre's busy marketplace they did meet
Saracen Eyes fireworks hatred  burning
Saracen lass falling at brother's feet
But there's a point beyond her returning
Her fair lover  bowed his head low to greet
The sword upraised sent blood infernal churning
The Phoenician gazed at azure skies
As he fell,  its sapphire met his eyes.

Twas a tale gory of a glorious age
Twas a lovers courage not borne by fate
To meet not pity but insidious  rage
That rendered tender regard obsolete.
Sought to shackle a soul to lonely cage
An exile of Love to treacherous Lethe
While Saracen lived his eyes held his doom
Oppressive souls carry  relentless gloom.

All rights reserved
(c) Amrita Valan 2015