16. A Haunted Escapade


    (Sonnets)


    <hr>


    <blockquote>


    Now, whenever I pass by our 2nd floor corridor in the house, I imagine seeing a pale girl in a Victorian style dress holding up an axe, by the top of the stairs.


    —Eleonne Moona (from Wattpad)


    </blockquote>


    1. The Scroll


    I am alone, cut off from all the things


    That used to bring me joy; I am a shell


    Of what I was, a husk of bitter stings


    That shock each beating pulse! This hell


    Of my own mind, of my own making, still


    Provides the burning ember of creation


    Inside this haunted mind. I take this quill


    And dip it in the blood of my damnation


    And write the sentence of my penance here


    Upon this very scroll you’re reading now;


    I know you’re reading this, but do not fear,


    For I’ll be with you to the end somehow,


    Even as day shall bleed to endless night


    That snuffs the flame of courage into fright . . .


    2. The Room


    A thousand worries kept me from the fold


    Of gentle sleep, because it was the time


    When everything that crept commits a crime


    Against the vulnerable, the young and bold,


    Whose plastic minds have conjured up a field


    Of sleepless dreams that swim before their eyes—


    Of monsters harking to their startled cries


    When heedless parents fail to come and shield


    Their sons and daughters from the looming threat;


    But even when they come to comfort them,


    Their presence driving ghouls back in retreat,


    They come back once they’re gone to make us scream:


    I screamed, but still my parents heard me not;


    This room has teeth, and in its jaws I’m caught.


    3. The Screams


    The screams of Hell awoke me from my slumber,


    As something sharp had spiked me through the heart;


    Flinging the sheets, I sat up with a start,


    My mind submerged in worries without number


    Over the lunacies that still encumber


    My waking life with thoughts of cruel despair,


    Because my childhood died upon the air


    On this ungodly night! I still remember


    (By God, I still remember) how their screams


    Have scraped the silence bare, have left the strings


    Of love to rot, have poisoned words, have springs


    Of blood and tears bleed out, have filled my dreams


    With visionary traumas traced with hate:


    Such was my lot, and such is now my fate.


    4. The Monsters


    How can I sleep? A pandemonium


    Of bitter screams and yet more arguments


    Corrupt the sleepless night with monuments


    Of hate and inner pain that leave me numb,


    As if my world has fallen from a crumb


    Of discontent, my prayers mere ornaments!


    What origins, what foul determinants,


    Fester my life with such a horrid outcome?


    I left the bed and crept out past the door,


    Then through the hallway, down the stairs, then halted


    Before the ruckus of my parents'' war


    Inside the family room: they both assaulted


    Each other with their words like saber-cuts,


    The floor beneath them splayed with blood and guts.


    5. The Entrapment


    I gasped and faltered in my step, then froze,


    Feeling the goosebumps resurrect my skin


    With horrid premonitions from within,


    As though my body knew these awful throes


    Of sudden revelation might disclose


    My presence to the monsters in their fight:


    The screams have stopped, and so I take my flight


    Through staircase, hallway, bedroom door, and shadows,


    Whereat I slammed the door and propped a chair


    Against the knob, then waited in despair:


    I backed myself against the corner, crying.


    Their prowling footsteps creaked upon the stair,


    Reverberating through the midnight air:


    Now trapped inside my room, I felt like dying.


    6. Their Voices


    Their footsteps creaked upon the staircase, through


    The hallway, getting louder than before,


    And halted on the threshold of my door,


    Where something dark formed underneath and grew


    Across the carpet of my room towards me;


    And so I turned the lamp, and back it shrank,


    Leaving the carpet wet whereon it stank


    Of blood, the stench of which assaults and swords me.


    I vomited the contents of my stomach,


    Whereat my parents said, “Are you all right?”


    And all my nerves then shook in utter fright:


    Besides the sight of blood, besides its haemic *


    Stench, their voices scraped the air in monstrous notes,


    As if the speakers in them were but Goats.


    7. No Escape **


    Their voices scraped the air, and gentle rapping


    Upon the door now turned to hammer blows;


    They said, “Come out, come out, our little sapling!


    Come out, or else we’ll cut off all your toes!”


    I scrambled to my feet, then grabbed a bat


    And broke my window pane, while hammer fists


    Broke through the panels, claws ripped through with splat


    After splat of something bleeding from cut wrists.


    I scrambled through the broken window pane,


    But clawed hands grabbed my ankles, and I screamed:


    Their claws cut through the skin, and all the pain


    I felt filled up the night with cries undreamed


    Of in my nightmares, held in place, then lifted


    Aloft in two firm grasps outside my window;


    So looking up through tears, I saw the shifted


    Faces of my two parents, grinning with no


    Soul in their eyes: they dropped me, and I fell


    Down to my death below me, down to Hell!


    8. My Depression ***


    A hell far worse than Hell itself, a hell


    I’ve carried deep inside my weary brain,


    Now bleeds out through my ears and eyes like rain:


    A thousand hateful words have rung the knell


    Of deep regrets that hang on lips of death;


    A thousand spiteful looks have etched disdain


    On fading looks of cheer that still remain,


    Etched slowly with the passage of each breath.


    If words of love have lifted me to Heaven,


    And words of hate have dragged me down to Hell,


    Such words have carved out suicidal thoughts


    Inside this mind that slowly—slowly—rots:


    So if you think that I was just unwell,


    You saw not, heard not, knew not, never even


    Attempted to believe in


    The demons that have spawned inside my head,


    Because you thought that everything I said


    Was just a made-up thread


    Of lies! Your words of doubt have carved a tomb


    Inside my mind, wherein my thoughts of doom


    Have buried me in gloom.


    9. The Neighborhood


    Before me was the moonlit street at night,


    Stretching to greater distances of shades


    And shadows like the yawning realm of Hades;


    With street lamps flick’ring in and out of sight,


    I gazed once more upon that house of spite,


    Then turned my steps beyond this neighborhood


    That used to be the center of my childhood,


    Where neighbors waved, and I laughed in delight.


    Dear Rudy used to walk his nightly rounds


    Upon these sidewalks ere his life had fled;


    So when I heard his footfalls on the grounds,


    I turned and saw him walking up ahead:


    And so I flew and held his ghostly hand,


    Then walked and walked into the Borderland.


    10. The Borderland


    The way was dark on which we walked,


    As though the starlit canopy of night


    Has faded past the edge of living sight,


    Enclosing us inside a realm where stalked


    The countless footless footfalls of the dead


    And creatures yet unheard and yet unseen


    To ears and eyes unused to such a scene,


    Unknown to all the knowledge in my head,


    And stabbing at my heart with beats of dread.


    Then to my eyes a gleam of ghostly green


    Lit up the starless canopy o’erhead,


    Revealing a projector-lighted screen,


    And there my parents lying on the floor;


    So Rudy spoke his wisdom like a mentor:


    11. His Wisdom ****


    “By making fate our choice, the blocks of our existence


    Well-spent or wasted, we create our road through this,


    A long and winding road of endless cares, a sentence


    Of woe that pledges all and gives to none its bliss.


    When we set down these stones of mortal destiny


    Upon the naked bedrock of our mortal lives,


    Consider ere you act on that uncertainty


    Of endless possibilities that life contrives.


    Because no matter what your good or bad intentions,


    They matter not to Him that holds the deadly blade;


    The question''s not how we escape His grim attentions,


    For He''ll succeed upon our lives, our dues repaid:


    It''s how we take our steps to meet Him on the chase,


    Opposing fate itself when Death breathes in your face.”


    12. The Runaway


    So said the ghost of Rudy as he faded


    Away amidst that spectral green of death,


    For ages passed since he had lost his breath


    And walked his living rounds alone, unaided


    By other men of courage. Here I took


    Those words of wisdom in my hand and chucked


    Them to the skies, then breathed in deep and sucked


    The air into my lungs and, with one look


    Around me, breathed out all the pent-up anguish


    Over my parents’ fall from grace to Hades;


    Now shapes around me followed in the shades


    Of lamplit sidewalks where I used to languish


    With all my friends. And so I picked my feet up


    And ran and ran and ran, trying to speed up!


    13. The Chase


    Running along the lamplit streets devoid


    Of any living footfalls save my own,


    Running past every house towards a void


    I could not see (nor moonlight could have shown),


    I felt the chill of something running with me


    As if the strides of Death himself were there,


    And felt the smooch of Death’s queer lips to kiss me


    As I began to huff and puff the air.


    Yet as I slowed, a-panting clouds of breath,


    I looked behind and saw nobody nigh:


    Only the silence of the dead—of death—


    Was there to greet the ear, and not the eye.


    Behind me were the ghosts of many woes;


    Beyond me lay the promise of more sorrows.


    14. The Alleyway *****


    A movement from the corner of my eye


    Catches me off my guard, and when I peer


    Into an alleyway, the atmosphere


    Around me chills my forearms with a sigh


    Of night wind flowing through my flannel clothes;


    I turn around and spy the empty streets


    Where not a living footfall ever greets


    Me with the taps of someone there. The shadows


    That loom about me creep along the wall,


    Whereon I trace the almost unseen motion


    Of something in the distance, whose emotion


    Resembles that of someone’s beck and call;


    And so I tread my steps with open eyes,


    Alert and wary, on the cusp of fear


    For anything amiss o’er there or here,


    Expecting something underneath these skies.


    15. The Knight


    The world was full of ghosts that night, replete


    With unseen footfalls striding ‘round about me,


    For everywhere I looked upon the street


    Was nothing there (oh, reader, do not doubt me!);


    But on those flagstones up ahead, I halted


    To find my bearings on this lonesome night,


    And found a shadowed figure ‘neath the vaulted


    Passage that blocked my way: it was a Knight


    In bloody armor, sword tip perched upon


    The grouting, pommel cupped in armored gloves,


    And through its visor burning eyes within


    That seemed to gaze out from deep pools of sin;


    So here I stood, when flocks of scattered doves


    Flew overhead, until I saw them gone.


    16. The Follower


    I took a backward step and then another,


    But on my third, that stationary Knight


    Took three steps forward, matching mine together


    With heavy footfalls thumping through the night;


    Then all was silent after that, a mere


    Reverberation through the nighttime static,


    But when I turned and ran away from here,


    I chanced a glance behind me in the frantic


    Moments when all my courage seemed to fade


    Upon the sight of that surreal pursuer


    Gaining upon my heels! Then up ahead:


    Another shambling Knight without a head!


    Was this a figment of an addled viewer?


    Was it my fate to die this way? Afraid?


    17. The Sleep of Fear


    Closing my eyes, I waited for the blows


    To cut me up asunder like a ham,


    Waiting and waiting for th’ expected wham


    Of searing edges through my sweat-soaked clothes;


    I waited for a second more and froze,


    Expecting something horrible to slam me,


    Then opened up my eyes—dear Christ, God damn me,


    I’m still alive, though shaking from my toes


    Unto the hairs arising from my neck!


    All strength within my legs and knees go slack,


    And down upon the cobblestones I go


    And drift away to sleep upon my back,


    A shell-shocked heap of flesh, a shattered wreck


    Of who I was and what I used to know.


    18. The Yellow-Brick Road


    I’ve swooned, and in this swoon, perchance I’ve dreamed


    A nightmare reaching out with withered hands,


    Grasping and pulling at its rusty bands


    Of iron chains restraining it, it seemed;


    But when I woke and oped my eyes, I screamed ******


    And sprinted down a road of yellow brick,


    For there behind me rode a phantom quick


    As death in jangling carriage riding teamed


    Horses that winnowed screams and snorted fire


    And stomped a tune of thunder at my heels!


    I ran and huffed and ran and huffed in dire


    Straits of sheer desperation, till my knees


    Gave out. I slowed, collapsed, until the wheels


    Of that grim carriage slowly ‘gan to ease.


    19. The Grim Reaper ****


    Turning around, I spied the coachmen seated there,


    Wrapped in a shawl and wearing on its face a grinning


    Mask; I just stood there staring as I was beginning


    To fathom its intentions waiting for me here,


    Here in this limbo floating in suspension, where


    A thousand unseen horrors lay in wait, a-pinning


    Me here upon this sordid road and slowly winning


    Over my steps toward its brougham door for fear


    Of what was out there, lurking. Here I stepped inside


    And found a shawl draped over my own shoulders with


    A mask appearing on my face; I wrapped the wide


    Girth of the shawl around me, sat upon the side


    Seat of a bench that faced the back bench, and forthwith


    Found a hooded Reaper sitting there without a scythe!


    20. The Scary FacesDid you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Ah, one by one, four other seated fiends


    (Two sitting right beside me, and two more


    Beside the Reaper) then appeared like friends


    All headed for a party on the dance floor:


    A withered Shade and Hag sat to my right,


    The Shade with see-through body, head, and face,


    The Hag with glaring eyes and grinning bite


    That chattered with her dentures still in place;


    A smelly Ghoul and grinning Cheshire Cat


    Were sitting by the hooded Reaper’s side,


    Both leering at me where I gulped and sat


    And trembled at their glances on this ride!


    Ah, how I trembled at these glaring monsters,


    While masquerading me played the imposter!


    21. The Mansion ****


    I saw the melancholy house slip into view


    While I accompanied the monsters going there,


    And all around me ghastly passersby did stare


    And laugh at me, a hapless visitor who drew


    His steps along their grim procession! Ah, but how


    Was I to know their teeming thoughts in this parade?


    For here I walked with monsters, walking in charade


    With that Grim Reaper by my side through shade and shadow!


    Now following along towards the looming house


    Atop the hill and through its creaking double doors


    And down the entrance hall and winding corridors,


    I passed beneath the shades and lamplights like a mouse


    About to be ensnared and trapped! Dear God, what horrors


    Lie there beyond those waiting double doors of terror?


    22. The Mask


    The doors then swung into a nightmare filled


    With masquerading monsters! Some were dancers:


    Ghosts, Goblins, Witches, Vamps, and Necromancers;


    And some were drunks: Hags, Ghouls, and Shades have spilled


    The punch they gorged, while drunken Devils swilled


    The absinthe. All were dressed, yet none wore masks:


    Only the Dullahans with helmet-casques


    And hooded Reapers hid their face. All stilled


    Upon the sight of me within their midst,


    Accompanied by my companion Reaper


    Standing beside me, while the others stared;


    The Reaper then took off her hood amidst


    The gasps of shock and awe, while I was scared


    To look when she said, “Ope your eyes, oh Sleeper . . .” ******


    23. The Axe-Girls


    I’ve swooned, and in that swoon, I might have screamed it


    A thousand times on waking up to stairs


    That stretched towards me, making all the hairs


    Upon my neck stand up; I might have dreamed it


    In half-forgotten thoughts, but I esteemed it


    With wide-eyed paranoia at its presence


    Just sitting in that momentary silence;


    I might have, in a lighter humor, deemed it


    A harmless staircase with the lights turned on,


    Yet through its bright enclosure on the landing


    That rose before me as I turned my gaze,


    I saw a pair of little girls there standing


    With axes in their hands and their heads gone:


    I bolted down the hallway in a craze!


    24. Hide and Seek *****


    With beating heart, I scurry like a mouse


    From room to room to hide myself inside


    A dingy closet, while the girls outside


    Were stalking through the hallways of the house;


    With bated breath, I listen to their tread


    Creaking along the floor like that of felines


    Stalking their prey, while I slink through the confines


    Of hanging clothes towards the wall in dread!


    What’s this I feel, as I now wrap my grasp


    Around a hard metallic sphere? A knob?


    And when I grasp and turn it ‘round, a throb


    Of recognition thunders out a gasp


    Of hope, just as their steps approach my room!


    I push the door and pass the threshold floor


    Before they pull aside the closet door . . .


    And find myself outside an open tomb.


    25. The Rat Man ***


    I turned around: the door into the tomb


    Was shut! So when I cast my wayward gaze


    Over the headstones through the graveyard haze,


    I thought I saw a shape move through the gloom


    Between the gravestones; down between these tombs


    Of ancient yore I tread my weary route


    In search of that elusive shape without


    A clue wherein this gloom of glooms


    It went. I threw my gaze from side to side,


    Looking for that fell shape, when something close


    Said in a whisper’s breath, “The mirror lied!”


    I turned around just as the sharpest dose


    Of searing fire erupted through my throat:


    And in my sights there flashed the bloody cutthroat,


    The Rat Man’s awful gloat


    Laughing into my ears. I then beheld


    The crimson glint of his knife’s edge and smelled


    My blood, as it expelled


    The screaming ghost of my blaspheming soul


    Out of my bloody throat onto the scroll


    Of Hell without parole!


    26. The Clowns


    I then awake unto the sound of bells


    Now clanging out the tune of many dirges,


    Rousing my heartbeats through my veins in surges


    Of dread and pain; yet as my blood dispels


    Such poisons from my veins, I quell the yells


    And screams still raging through my ringing ears,


    Till (drip by drip) I cry cathartic tears


    Of sweet relief through fits of laughing spells. . . .


    That is, until more laughter from the dark


    Approaches me: I scramble to my feet


    As something over there begins to greet


    Me with another bout of laughter. Hark!


    Another fit of laughter stirs behind me,


    At which I find two laughers have confined me!


    27. The Harlequin


    I dashed away from those two sordid clowns


    And footed it beyond their sordid laughter,


    Footing it through the woods until their sounds


    Have faded from the night. With threats of slaughter


    Now far behind me, I then trekked my way


    Into the creeping woods and saw a man


    In checkered costume look my way and say,


    “Who are you, stranger? What’s your sordid plan?”


    I said, “I have no sordid plans or fell designs,


    For I have lost my way amid these woods


    And need a place to stay.” I’ve said my lines;


    He said, “I know a place of many goods


    For you to eat and drink.” He bade me follow;


    And so I tailed him through the wooded hollow.


    28. The Bunny Man


    We reached his cabin in the woods, where he


    Invited me into his house and offered


    Some victuals and ready drinks for me;


    I then forgot the horrors that I’ve suffered


    And stepped inside and made myself at home.


    I ate and drank unto my heart’s content,


    While he informed me of the weird and gruesome


    Crimes of a wanted felon: “The extent,”


    He said, “of this man’s crimes are legendary.


    And so, we’ve dubbed this man the Bunny Man,


    For he commits his crimes inside the very


    Costume that gives his epithet, this beast-man:"


    And yet, so long as you stay here with me,


    You’ll be as safe as anyone can be!”


    29. The Pick-Axe **


    I thanked him for his hospitality


    And told him of the horrors I have seen


    During the nightmares of my wayward journey,


    Till I grew tired with talking. Then the scene


    Began to change before my weary eyes,


    For ere I was about to fall asleep,


    My host began to don a queer disguise,


    A bunny suit, a wolf among the sheep!


    I sprang unto my feet, but when I did,


    I felt my legs give out from under me;


    By God, he’s spiked the drink! And so amid


    My struggles to get up, I start to pee


    Myself when I saw him take up a pick


    From off his wall and head for me; he kicked


    Me over on my back and ‘gan to stick


    It through my chest and abdomen, then picked


    My head into a pulp of skull and flesh,


    While through the awful pain, I screamed afresh!


    30. The Axe-Man


    I then awoke, a-screaming out my voice


    Into the godless night, until the hills


    Echoed before me with the phantom trills


    Of fright; yet for a time, the awful noise


    Carried and changed its tune to that of boys’


    Laughter throughout the night; and for a time,


    I then descended down the grassy climb,


    Till something at my back left me to poise


    Myself. I turned around with just one glance


    Up at the moonlit hill and saw a man


    With an axe in his hand! And so I ran


    And screamed, a-cursing out my grave mischance


    To cross another killer’s wayward path


    And dreading yet another painful bloodbath.


    31. The Stalker-Man


    And so I ran, till all my breath was gone,


    And all my strength to keep on running fled,


    And there was something aching in my head;


    I then turned back and spied the field whereon


    Th’ ungodly axe-man’s stalking apparition


    Pursued my running steps, and there he paced


    With Axe in hand: I backed away in haste


    And flew the other way, till my condition


    Began to burn with all the burning in


    My legs, because the threat of that foul ghost


    Kept tailing me, a-stalking me within


    The drumbeats of my heart, until I lost


    My way, my mind collapsed in thoughts of murder


    A-slicing up my astral corpse asunder.


    32. The Carnival


    And so I ran and reached a wayward route


    That led into a town of gloomy folks


    Amidst a carnival of masks and cloaks,


    Wherein I slowed my steps and looked about;


    They all wore masks and cloaks, yet all throughout


    The bustling thoroughfares, they skipped and pranced


    And played their games and yelled and laughed and danced


    As little children often do, no doubt.


    Yet when I stepped into their bustling midst,


    I found myself th’ observed of the observers,


    A child within the company of strangers;


    Then out of nowhere manifested mist,


    And then arose the hint of subtle dangers


    Within the child-like drivel of their murmurs.


    33. Santa Claws


    And then they said, “He knows you’re not asleep;


    He knows your stomach lurches into knots;


    He knows when you’re awake with sinful thoughts;


    He knows when you’re alone, you’d often weep


    Yourself to slumber with the ghosts that lurk and creep


    Within your bedroom just beyond the darkness;


    He knows why you are crying in the stillness


    Beneath your bedsheets as you’re counting sheep . . .”


    Yet as their words continued through the pause


    Of utter stillness in my mind, I closed


    My eyes and opened them: and there he was,


    The fat man dressed in red with sack exposed


    And showing all the bodies he’s disposed


    Of naughty children sliced up with his claws!


    34. The Missing Children *******


    I closed my eyes and screamed, till I grew hoarse


    And wheezed and choked and coughed up wads of phlegm,


    Then looked around me and— . . . My God, what force


    Of devilry had started all this mayhem?


    The corpses of the children, all of them,


    Lay strewn throughout this clearing in the trees,


    And when I looked, I saw each twig and stem


    And branch had been disturbed! But when the breeze


    Picked up, I felt a stab of sharp unease


    As something overtook my sense of dread


    And flooded me with fear. By slow degrees


    Of disbelief, I saw these children dead


    Arise upon their feet! And yet thereafter,


    I joined my long lost peers in sullen laughter!


    35. The Night Parade


    I laughed a ghoulish laugh with them, until


    I had my fill of laughter. Then I greeted


    These undead boys and girls whose lives have treated


    Them with the foul mistrust of those who kill


    Their sense of self and strength. Adults instill


    The fear of God in everything, repeated


    A million times, until we lie defeated


    Upon a stage adults have built to grill


    Our minds and hearts with all the fears they have,


    Dragging us down with lies of love and care;


    But in this group of children lost, we save


    Ourselves with friendship through the cross we bear:


    Indeed, we might be lost, we may have strayed,


    But with each other, we’re the Night Parade.


    36. The Lost Children ********


    <blockquote>


    Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!


    —Bram Stoker,


    Dracula, Chapter II: Johnathan Harker’s Journal—continued


    </blockquote>


    I. The Woods at Night


    We trekked on through the woods beneath the moonlit


    Darkness of night, pretending we were soldiers


    Marching along in pairs; we stopped to sit


    And rest ourselves on fallen logs and boulders,


    While two of us kept watch just yards ahead;


    And while I rested thus, I rubbed my shoulders


    And abdomen and chest and neck and head,


    Whereon I had sustained the lethal blows


    Of pick-axes and knives: the pain and bloodshed


    Still set my nerves a-tingling ‘neath my clothes,


    Still caused my heart to thump and hands to shake


    Upon the very thought! But then arose


    The howl of wolves that made my heart to quake:


    And all at once, my nerves began to break!


    II. The Mad Dash


    Out of the darkness rose a thousand howls


    Echoing through the woods and sending us


    Running amidst the fray of hooting owls


    And panic-stricken yells! So tenuous


    Was our escape through all these wooded shades


    And shadows in our path, we ‘gan to cuss


    And swear our stumbling way into the glades


    Without our knowing, till we stopped, dead tired


    Enough to drop into the realm of Hades.


    Yet just before we, one by one, expired


    Upon our feet, we looked and saw a bridge


    Of astral sighs appear, its shape transpired


    Across a yawning gulf along the drawbridge


    Spanning a ghastly length from ridge to ridge.


    III. The Bridge of Sighs


    The hoots and howls had stopped, and all was still


    And silent in the air, as if the world


    Around us stood at full attention, till


    We moved our steps across the Underworld;


    And on the sighing breeze, we heard the voices


    Of our own yelling parents that have hurled


    A thousand accusations that our choices


    Were never ours to make: we’re just too young


    To understand that all our dreams of choice is


    A false impression, just the lying tongue


    Of countless promises to keep our eyes


    From getting wet when life is full of dung!


    So here we tread through broken dreams and lies,


    Contracted to the sounds of our own sighs.


    IV. The Confrontation


    Then up ahead, we found these evil tyrants


    Approaching us with claws and teeth, full-bared


    Against our passage through, because our parents


    Just want to keep us on probation, scared


    Of what they’d do; they’ve laid out punishments


    To keep us in control, and if we’ve dared


    To make a stand and raise our voice, th’ events


    That would transpire would make us lose our nerve


    And drown us in the lake of discontents.


    Yet through it all, we’ve kept up our reserve


    Of courage for the prospect of our plight,


    Ready to take the scoldings we deserve,


    Ready to stand our ground with all our might,


    And ready to endure the dragon fight!


    V. The Revelation


    Yet in a war of words, we’re far outmatched


    In skill to keep our heads above the water,


    Because they’re wiser. We’re just newly hatched


    And soft against the flood of verbal slaughter


    Attacking us in waves of reprimands,


    For what we say about ourselves won’t matter;


    We’re kids, and we must follow their demands,


    No matter how demeaning they may be,


    For we’re just kids, and we’re on shifting sands;


    They think that we can’t understand or see


    The points they make, yet we cannot avoid


    The truth we see inside their eyes, for we


    Perceive that they were children once, destroyed


    And sunk into the silence of the Void.


    37. The Void *********


    There’s something you should know about adults:


    They are but children lost within the void


    Of circumstances far from their control;


    They’re doomed to live a life of harsh results


    That beat them down with things they can’t avoid;


    They’re doomed to struggle to maintain their worth


    When COVID-19’s cut them from the payroll


    And added to the stress of daily insults,


    When deaths of loved ones make them paranoid


    Over their health of body, mind, and soul;


    They’re doomed to lose their reasons for their mirth


    When they have witnessed their most cherished dreams


    Broken upon the grounds of widespread dearth


    Amidst the wailing silence of their screams.


    38. The Awakening


    I screamed myself awake upon my bed,


    And there I lay a-breathing fast and heavy,


    My wayward thoughts now scattered in a bevy


    Of honking geese now flying south ahead


    Of morning’s glorious light. The blood I’ve shed


    So many times throughout this escapade


    Has left me cold and clammy in the shade


    Of autumn’s sunrise. All the pangs of dread


    I’ve faced has left me with the subtle trace


    Of apprehension on my nerves, my heart


    Still beating out the drum-like thumps that race


    With all the fury of a sudden start,


    But even this subsided once I looked


    Around me with no thoughts of getting spooked.


    39. The End


    Then through the door into my bedroom came


    My parents calling out to me with fear


    Inside their eyes, and to my bitter shame,


    I cried and cried, because they’re over here;


    I heard their voices (soft and comforting)


    Caress my ears with words so full of cares,


    Soothing my mind of every ghastly thing


    That filled and thrilled me with the stuff of nightmares,


    Banishing all the dread of last night’s dream


    Into the void of calm forgetfulness,


    Soothing the ghost of one forgotten scream


    With all the love and warmth of sweet redress.


    So goes the cycle of my life this way,


    As fearful night gives way to hopeful day.


    <hr>


    FINISH