In the courtyard, many are selling,
Those with ties, and trinkets and yelling.
“Hear ye hear ye, the newest cure and ail”,
To which people a far come and hail.
And though most will never stop by my cart,
I cannot say I’ve got wounded heart.
For there are no ails, no cures, no meals,
Just me, my cart, and my love for deals.
A man stops by, a curious wonder,
“What have you got?” his voice a plunder.
“I’ve got the finest deals you see,
Anything you want, just not for free.”
The man looks at me, with scornful face,
Walking away without a trace.
Though there are many carts round here,
I’m the owner who profits from fear.
Two days later, while I’m setting my cart,
A man comes up asking for hearts.
“I want to marry this woman you see,
But I’m already married, with children of three.”
He entrances me, so I draw up a deal,
“You’ll have a new heart, but after you steal.
There’s no tricks or follies, you haven’t a worry,
Simply give wife’s heart to me, and hurry.”
Signing quickly, trembling with fear,
The man runs from me to find his dear.
“Quiet now,” he says holding a knife,
”it’ll be soon” he says to his wife.
A day or two later, I’ve sold some more deals,
The man shows up, trembling and teal.
“The heart sir”, he hands it to me,
“Now my mistress, could you please.”
Now, I am not a man of the law,
But my cart and I are one of awe.
When I saw stains upon his hands,
I knew he might fill my demand.
“Yes, I’ll grant you your heart’s desires,
I switched the bodies of your admires.
The woman you love, you’re holding her heart,
It’s bleeding, defeating, it’ll tear you apart.”
He looks at me without sense of belief,
And has trouble accepting all of his grief.
He shudders, he mutters, and falls to his knees,
“That couldn’t be her,” he begs and pleads.
“It can’t be her, there’s just no way,
You couldn’t have switched them, not that day.
She was sleeping so soundly, I know my wife.”
He sputters to me about his strife.
Wanting consoling feelings from me,
These humans don’t understand, you see.
My deals are not like other vendors,
And my profits are not always splendor.
“Well you see sir, you’ve signed my deal,
You wanted her heart, now I’ve got a meal.”
I let out a smile, laughing all the while,
As he stares back at me, angry and vile.
“Liar! My mistress is alive and well!
You spin your lies, deceiver, I tell!”
Men, and their daftness, I decided to show,
Force him to watch his wife and love go.
I show him his wife, waking confused,
She was not in her house, her home or her shoes.
Then his mistress, cut up in his bed,
No heart in her lungs, no life in her stead.
“It’s alright, now don’t you cry,
Deals can always go awry.
How’s about this, I’ll cut you a deal,
You come with me, and you’ll be at her heels.”
Shaken, and untrusting he glares at me,
Though, contemplation I can still see.
“You actually think I’d come with you?
Haven’t you seen what you’ve put me through?”
Sometimes it’s longer to understand,
But I had only so much time on my hands.
“You’ll come with me, and you’ll see your mistress,
I’ll write you a deal, it’ll be in your interest.”
I knew from his looks he hadn’t any trust,
So with my parchment and pen I thrust,
“He can see his love if he comes with me,
And there will be enormous bouts of glee.”
He read over my pages, with care this time,
Looking out for tricks, follies, and lines.
“This deal seems in my favor, give the pen,”
Again he signed with glee, and then-
I became fantastically in joy,
I took his hand and we deployed.
Not for a jail, or a cell, mind you,
But to my home, where brimstone brews.
I chained his wrists, and gave him a spot,
Seeing his love, with him she was not.
For you see, she was up above,
In a place of happiness, filled with love.
But here, this man, who I torture and loathe,
Stays with all the others I stow.
The vengeful, the raged, the evil they may,
Chained and locked, no sight of day.
Packing my cart, parchment ready,
I walk to their world, and get to setting.
A man walks to me, alone and afraid,
I smile and get my parchment laid.