The Dearg-Due

Lips as red as a rose,
Hair as bright as a sunflower,
And eyes as green as a four-leaf clover
While being beautiful on the outside, she also had a gentle soul to match.

All she wanted was the attention of a young peasant boy,
Unlike her family, she didn't care about money, though her family did,
Instead, she was betrothed to a much older clan chieftain,
Who kept her beauty all to himself, 
Locking the poor women in a tower.

Only entering to feed her, and bleed her,
He would press his knife against her smooth pale skin,
Pressing harder and harder till drops of crimson rushed to the surface of the wound,
She hated it and him.

She would hide the meals he would bring and refuse to eat them,
Her beauty slowly faded away, 
And soon so did she, 
Upon burial, the townspeople remembered her for the gentle soul she had once been.

One night, she rose from the grave and became the Dearg-Due,
Draining the blood from people, as her husband had done to her in life,
And seeking revenge against those who knew what was going on behind closed doors and did nothing.