He needed to inform her,
as quickly as possible, of the mistake that has occurred.
He needed to write to her,
so she can understand, who is really to blame.
He sought for a pen, as for a paper he already had;
but the pen she gave him- he lost...
He needed to write quickly, so she can know the truth,
but he could not find a pen to write with.
Then, he found a feather,
but what use could this feather have without ink?
A terrible thought of the usage of blood crossed his mind,
but he already bled enough for her;
another dribble's miss should probably kill him.
No dark liquid stood for him then.
Non but the edge of his poisonous arrows.
"Should I?" he thought,
he might need them later on his journeys, when he gets out.
He must write to her!
Quickly! She is in danger!
He took the arrows of his, edged with dark red poison.
He wrote the truth so ardently.
As soon he wrote it all, he immediately sent it to her,
so she can see and will be safe,
and most important of all - shall know the truth about him.
As she received it, "You filthy liar!" she screamed.
"Your words are poison!"