​There was a bounty on his head

He was a fugitive on the run

Struggling to find refuge

Struggling to understand what he’d done

He had been seeking love

From her who never gave him her attention

The one he wrote his heart out to

The one who became his obsession 

He told her he would die or kill 

Just to have her hand in his

The hours he spent daydreaming 

The hours he prayed for his one wish

Then one day as he rose

He decided to let her know

To tell her he would cry no more

To tell her he was letting go

He walked up to her house

In little steps by cursed feet led  

He reached to find her gone

He reached to find her dead 

People said this and that

His letter was found near her bed

He runs now like the wind gone mad

He runs with an ill-fated bounty on his head

*Written totally ‘out of the head’, as against our usual ‘from the heart’, for the Daily Post prompt Bounty.

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