Hearing the conversation from high in the stone,
Maria’s emotions sought ways to atone.
A conflict within understood what she heard,
yet struggled to see righteousness in every word.
And just as she gathered herself to descend,
a shout from the wings warned of approaching men:
‘Soldiers are coming, and not of the crown.
These are the butchers of Baronstown.
Your Majesty, you must go to some place secure,
for the Church is approaching with reasons impure.’
The King and so Fensham knew in a glance
that the Church was finally taking its chance.
And The King shouted out that his Guard be brought ‘round
to fight and to die and protect the royal ground.
With gestures obeyed, Fensham’s chains were removed.
He was handed a sword and a pistol approved.
A mere hundred men encircled the pair
and faced all the doors and the enemy there.
‘No chance can I see,’ Fensham declared.
‘Long hast the Church for this coup been prepared.’
The King drew forward a menacing blade
and said, ‘Ever hast a good king been badly betrayed.’
From all doors they burst in and opened their fire,
their guns causing many a soldier’s expire.
As the fighting turned swiftly to sword and to glove,
Maria loosed arrows from hiding above.
Hers was the fight that the kingdom deserved,
the Faith in The Good King held in reserve.
And though isolated, that Faith fought with might,
every arrow she loosed like a heavenly light.
The King never saw her, nor e’er knew her name,
but namelessly Faith fought beside him that day.
Finally o’erwhelmed by the shooting of the ceiling,
a shot of corruption sought the end of her feeling.
She struck ground far below, with righteous revealing.