《Murderously Disturbed》 1. Invocation (Double Couplets) Invocation (Double Couplets)
There is a quiet in the mind Beyond the realm of dreams, A hidden place that few can find That cancels out the screams Of children trapped within the clutch Of nightmares manifold, Dulling out their sense of touch, Until they are controlled. These mindless children at the mercy Of analyzing brains, They form a timeless controversy Over their dead remains. ¡ªAlistairPart 1 So say''s the Grecian patron saint Of all forsaken children; And yet, the story that I spin Comes out of that deep cauldron Where death (and never life) begets The slumbers of the grave, Spinning new nightmares from the darkness, Which makes the sane to rave. It was a hospital of dreams, A psychiatric ward That housed the inmates'' bedlam woes, Wasting away, ignored. It now stands as a testament To inhumanity To fellow human sufferers, Each brick of masonry A concrete witness to the crimes Committed for the science Of saving lives, which are but lies Stuffed down their throats of silence! Yet in my time, there used to be A special section where Children like me would spend their days And nights in constant fear, For we were children left behind, Abandoned to our fates, No mother''s love to soothe our bonds That tie us down like inmates. Our days were spent beneath the scalpels Of cruel experimenters; Our nights were spent in darkened silence, Dreaming of our tormentors That caper past the edge of sight As demons in disguise, Filling our dreams with constant dread Of their inhuman eyes; And as the eldest of these children, Verging on my fifteenth year, The burdens of their agony Rest on my shoulders bare. On such a night, after my trial Was carried out on me, I''m led into the passageway Beyond the agony Of fellow inmates looking out From padded cells at me; I''m tired, can barely walk or keep My balance, even see; I''m but a little walking corpse Treading on weary feet, Treading my way towards confinement In padded walls of concrete. I''m led towards a padded door, Through which I pass myself in A padded soundless cell of peace To ease my mental strife in. The padded door now closes with A sudden muffled bang, Encasing me inside my coffin, Locked with a muffled clang. I lie myself upon the pads Beneath the dimming light Above my head, then close my eyes And dream of dreams tonight. Interlude 1
There is a darkness to the light, Staining the soul in shadows, Where childhood innocence and might Encounter in deep hollows The greatest fear amid all fears, Beating within all hearts; And in the tracks of running tears, Tinged in their clearest parts, Is found the tainting influence Of thoughtful devilry, Accompanied by th'' effluence Of hateful blasphemy. ¡ªAlistairPart 2 So say''s the Grecian patron saint Of tainted innocence; And now the world of shattered dreams Drives on my penitence. Into the footless depths of darkness, I find myself outside the Old palace of the Borderlands, A palace by the sea Where djinn are said to live and dine * Upon the sacrificial days; An after-haze of smokeless fire Still lingers in the byways Beyond the mirthless gates and walls That still surround the place. It is a world abandoned by An old ethereal race Of men that came before the current Days of our present day; Such were those days of sacrifice, I feel it all the way Down to the marrow of my bones, Wherein all fear resides¡ª Down to the depths of human instinct Where this fearful patient hides¡ª Down to the handle of my blade Where the slash of death provides Me with the courage on my quest To slay tormentors as my test, Whereon their blood decides The fate of all my bedlam mates, Adults and children both. So armed with vorpal blade in hand, ** Ere trekking through this Borderland, I take upon my oath: "Great Alistair, please guide my blade Into the hearts of monsters, Those heartless demons with their scalpels, Those human-faced impostors!" And so I trek into the gates To execute my justice; I''ll show those monsters what it means To double-cross our trust is! The inner palace walls lie still To crumble into dust; The leafless garden trees lie mute Against the seaside thrust Of wind upon the distant banks That whisper of souls lost; Only the distant breaking waves Echo on the rocky crust That forms the beach adjacent to The palace of the djinn. I surge ahead along the path Towards the entrance in The expectation of attack Inside this wooded garden Before I gain the entrance door; Perhaps a hidden guard in One of the hiding places of This garden of the dead Is scouting me within the tress, Filling my thoughts with dread. And yet I keep my courage true Beneath the gibbous moonlight, Advancing with the fate of death Upon my blade of starlight, And as I reach the steps upon The threshold of the door, A score of djinn emerge out of A haze of smokeless vapor; I grip my blade in both my hands And take a ready stance, Preparing on attacking them Before they have a chance! I lunge and flail my blade about To cut them down to size, Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.And yet I only slice the air To my disbelieving eyes; So now they circle ''round about me, Fearless of my attacks, And ere I take another swipe, They bid me to relax. I stay my blade but keep my guard In silence; so they say, "What is the meaning of your presence? What brings your feet this way?" And on their words of inquiry, A darkness overflows My spirit in a spreading pool Of bloody vitriol on those Who torture all my fellow inmates, Experimenting on them; I say, "I''m here to seek revenge On doctors, all of them, Who drug my fellow inmates with The side effect of phlegm!" *** "A pact with us will get it done, If only for a price," They say, and in my heart I know That ''price'' means sacrifice. "What price of sacrifice must I Do, if must I accept?" I say in my defense; they say, "A sacrifice we''ve kept In blood within our dining halls Is all we''ll intercept. "The blood of anyone will do, As long as it is human; But we do favor blood from those Who have a high acumen For the sciences of life and death And everything inhuman." And so I smile a wicked smile That stretches out my lips, Because th'' asylum''s full of those Who love to torture (heaven knows!) Patients with their scalpel tips. "I''ll gladly shed the blood of those Who torture day and night, Sating their twisted torture-binge!" I say, impassioned with revenge. "I''ll kill them all tonight!" So in consenting to their whims, I drift into the darkness, Returning softly to my bed, Revengeful, even heartless. Interlude 2
Into the depths of utter darkness Exists a touch of virtue; Although the world may seem so heartless, It need not ever hurt you. If you can redefine your station And your state of self therein, You''ll find yourself without frustration Over the Hell within, Because the mind''s a battlefield: It takes as well as gives. Be not afraid, nor hide, nor yield To the world''s bloody knives. ¡ªAlistairPart 3 So say''s the Grecian patron saint Upon this monster-slayer; And so I take upon myself This bladed cross of prayer, And with the backing of the djinn, I wake my soul to action, Projecting out my soul from body In sharp but brief extraction, Leaving my mortal body there Within the cell unmoving, From which I see the silver chord Body and soul still linking. I turn my sights towards the wrongs That beckons to be righted, And with my vorpal blade in hand, I stalk out so excited That I now feel myself to smile At future retributions, Those callous doctors unaware Of their own executions! To help me in this vengeful venture, The djinn lock all the doors That lead to exits to outside, Trapping the staff indoors. I stalk along the corridors And look through every door, Looking about for my tormentors On each and every floor. The first I spot''s an orderly Of elderly appearance; At first I think of killing her For her role''s adherence To carry out the doctors'' orders, But then her disappearance Would cause the guards to call in backup, Endangering my plan, Even when no one can see me With the help of djinn who can Conceal my presence from this earth; Ah well, this aging crone''s not worth The risking of the program. But just as I''m about to pass Her by without her killed, I whirl around with blade in hand, Slicing open her thyroid gland From which blood sprayed and spilled, Staining the walls and floor with gore. I know the actions that I take are kind of twisted, yes; Then again, you know what? Within this awesome killing spree, I do not give a damn! And so I go through corridors, Continuing the program Of splaying guts onto the floors And decorating walls With the flying sprays of blood Within this maze of halls. I slash and cut through orderlies And massacre the guards, Filling this asylum with their screams, Making nightmares out of their worst dreams, Gutting this house of cards. With orderlies and guards now dead, The surge of vengeance grows, Because those evil doctors are The ones that do not have a prayer¡ª The ones I will impose My harshest retributions on Their unrepentant souls; So help me God, so help me djinn, I''ll send them to the ghouls! And so I stalk the whole asylum In search of only doctors, But in my search I cannot find Any of those damn monsters! Then presently I ask the djinn Where all those doctors are, And in return they said to me, "Most of them are very far "Away within their homes tonight, Except for three nearby Hiding inside their office rooms; We''ll kill the ones within their homes, While you kill those close by." And so I stalk the corridors And search in every room, Itching to use my vorpal blade To bring about their doom. The first I come across is but A youth in doctor''s clothes, Checking each patient''s data folder, Perhaps an intern to an older Doctor with more skill (who knows). But young or old, I do not care; I want to make a kill Upon the first of this trifecta, Commencing this revenge-perfecta To get my glory''s fill. And so I sneak in through the door While he has his back turned, Re-shelving all the folders on The back shelf, unconcerned With anybody lurking through The shadows with a mind For murder on my vorpal blade, Stalking closer behind. And so I creep on tiptoed feet, As silent as a phantom, Raising my blade up in the air, Invisible and bantam **** Within my phantom cloak the djinn Enrobed me in tonight, Biding my time to see him flinch And turn around in fright! Flinching he begins to turn around, And now I plunge the blade Right through his fleshy clavicle, From which the blood now sprayed With screams accompanied with groans, Dropping him with his arms splayed! A spreading pool of blood collects Upon the office floor, Filling the air with an iron taste As I stalk out the door. And so I stalk the corridors And search in every room, Itching to use my vorpal blade To bring about more doom. The second one is middle-aged And practiced with a scalpel, Now armed with many scalpels in His pockets¡ªhands as well. But he''s no match for someone he Can''t see or even touch; Nothing he does will make much difference With my blade inside my clutch. And so I tip-toe forward now So phantom-like, unseen, That I become way too excited¡ª So much so it''s obscene! I cackle, and the echo sounds Within the silent hall, Scaring the man to turn his head And nearly take a fall. But as he rallies from his fears, He says in bitter words, "You think you''ll get away with this, Treating us all like herds? You animals deserve to die And jelly up like curds!" Enraged at him, I lash out twice And splatter all his guts Out of his stomach where he stands In shock from painless cuts! The blood and guts now splatter on The floor in his surprise, And now he falls upon his knees With tears upon his eyes, Putting his guts back in his belly As he slowly¡ªslowly¡ªdies . . . He fades away in murmuring Some incoherent words; The pool of blood, now spreading fast, Coagulate like curds. And with the guts now lying there Bringing up such a stink, I say some words upon the air, "I''m faster than you think." And so I stalk the corridors And search in every room, Itching to use my vorpal blade To bring a final doom. The very last I need to kill Takes quite some time to look for, As though the doctor knew his time Was shorter on the first floor. And so I stalked through all the rooms Inside the first floor where I found him on his knees now mourning The young assistant killed there, The youngest doctor I dispatched Before this final nightmare. I walk to him still crying there To end his suffering, Because it enters in my brain That I took everything That matters to him more than life¡ª His son, the young assistant, I killed for his remote connection With his own father''s vile profession, Now dead and nonexistent. But as I walk to him, he looks In my direction with The eyes of someone who can see The ghostly kin and kith. He says with tears within his eyes, "You took my son away! He had no part in all of this!" And so I pause and say, "May God have mercy on your soul, Because I never will." And then I slash across his throat, Making my final kill. So with that final killing stroke, My curse is rectified Upon the blood of bleeding monsters Who by my blade have died. And so I walk back to my cell Wherein I''m slumbering, Glancing upon my fellow inmates I freed from everything That terrified with demon eyes And fooled us with a thousand lies¡ª I did the proper thing! And so I enter in my cell And lay within my body To slumber off the sleep of death, For death I now embody. Epilogue
Become the knife of vengeance laid Upon the sinner''s soul, Because true justice needs a blade That steals back what he stole. For through the blood of sacrifice That purifies the spirit, It balances the fatal price Of those who try to shear it. For you''re the shadow of each dream That brings on sudden death! You are the one that makes them scream Upon their dying breath! ¡ªAlistair
I have seen the dark universe yawning Where the black planets roll without aim, Where they roll in their horror unheeded, Without knowledge, or lustre, or name. ¨DH. P. Lovecraft, "Nemesis"1 I know it''s out there, lurking in the darkness, Hiding in tombs of endless night and silence Along dark rivers from forgotten eras; Vast are the realms of outer darkness there, Enveloping this earthly plane we live on. Suppose (should you allow for suppositions) Entire domains and kingdoms of existence Entering through the misty veil of dreams and Nightmares and through the corners of our minds. There lies in distant wastes beyond our dreams Humongous vistas where great Azathoth, Enchanted still to sleep by flutes and drums, Dreams on in muttering such gibberish As no one (still alive or dead) can fathom, Remaining there an Imbecile of All, Knowing of nothing that his mind creates. Under no circumstance shall I tell all, Nor mention all the awful things I saw Inside the fringes of those Halls of Dread. Verily will I say to you that these Enchanted and horrendous things I saw Require a strength of mind to comprehend, Since neophytes like you have gone insane, Endangering their plastic minds as much as Yours. So in mercy to yourself and to All other listeners who hear you speak these Wonders I am to tell, I must reveal Nothing that would endanger both of us; In no way else will I reveal these wonders, Not that these very words fill me with worry: Give me some time to figure out this story. 2 When I was seventeen, I used to see Half-glimpses through the veil of lucid dreams, Entering vast and dim-lit hallways through a Reclusive door I often chanced to find Either by luck or evil circumstance. The halls were dark, half-flooded, doorless yet Had once connected to a stately palace Ere some destruction left it in this state. But as I groped along the corridors, Losing myself along the wandering bowels, A sudden spell of sudden trepidation Creeps through my heart with icy fingers from Kadath that beckons me along this way. Perhaps that pensive place of eldritch lore, Long-fabled in hushed tones, attracts and leads Astray unfortunates like me to other Nebulous realms too wide and strange to grasp. Entering yet another unknown part of Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.The winding halls, I find a row of doors Standing on either side against the walls. Rows upon rows of lighted doors that stretch Onwards into the shadows, all of them Leaving a subtle chill of doubt within the Lake of my heart. So past these ghastly doors I Walk on in search of that one door that only I can open with the only key I have, Tucked away in my pocket as I tread. Here then I walk and walk and walk in haste, Only to spare the briefest looks behind, Unsure if something''s there lurking in darkness, There beyond the shadow, past the wall of sight. Another chill runs up my weary spine, and I now run with all the haste of coming doom, Making my way along this horrid tomb! 3 What chthonic blasphemies pursue my steps * Here in these flooded corridors of ruin? Each stab pulsating through my weary heart Reveals entire denominations of Exquisite terrors ravaging my soul. There''s something in the human soul, a candle Haunting the sepulchers that form our bodies. Enter a place of darkness, there you''ll find Yourself the moving target of the ghouls Roaming the halls of human fear wherein Only those brave or foolish wanderers, Led on by some fixation, find themselves. Letting these thoughts subside, I recollect In my studies on the ancient Occident ** Nothing of worth, except perhaps the fact That in the smaller hours of morning, I Have come across these hallways in my studies. Even the briefest episodes have left In the lake of my heart the slightest of Ripples as though some foreign entity Has come to wade within the fearful waters. Over the slosh of wading legs, a whisper Resounds before me far into the darkness, Repeating notes in dissonant and eldritch Overtures that madden out my senses, Repeating like a ghostly gramophone. Uncanny are the terrors of the heart; Noxious are all the fumes of pungent waters; Hideous are the sounds that haunt the blind; Erratic are the whims of the looming fate; Exquisite are the stabs of sudden panic Drowning the heart and mind with fearful things; Eerie is this dizzy atmosphere of doom; Damned are the souls entrapped inside this tomb! 4 Where is the door that leads outside to safety? I could not fathom, though I wade and plod Through countless gallons of stagnating water; How endless seem the rows of doors unopened, Opening to horrendous options all! Under the spell of this anticipation, There comes the sudden stab of awful doubt Keeping my wading strides from moving on. Neither moving nor retreating, imagine Out of the darkness some great bulk of flesh Wheezing through breathing holes of mucus-slime, Letting out the noxious fumes of wet decay. Enveloped in the stench, I wheel about Determining to flee the horrid thing. Getting a good head start, I flee the scene, Exciting that foul-smelling thing awake! Onward I run in haste and hear its rasp and Roar, almost metallic in intensity. Let God expunge the horrors of my flight! Under the strain of wading through the water, Something foul and sticky wraps its length around The middle of my waste and has me Ripped apart, my guts spilled on the water where Echo my screams, before I woke up screaming. Only God knows how I escaped its grasp, Reminding me of every stench I smell. Now that you know the horrors of my dream, Arise and see the bloodstains on my shirt. My guts have yet to heal, and yet I live, Enslaved in death while I remain alive!
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come. ¡ªWilliam Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act 3: Scene 1The die is cast; the family unit Is broken into splinters. The only pillars of my strength Now drift apart along the length Of clenching ruthless fingers. The unbreakable vow is shattered And all my strength goes with it; The only thing awaiting me (When everywhere I look to see) Is death and screams within it. This world I see is dead to me, Burnt to a smokeless ember; For no more love and only hate Shall be the ending of my fate, Which no one shall remember.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. So in my darkest hours of silence, When everyone is dead, I scratch my name from off the page Of destiny within my rage Of solitary dread. No fate shall follow at my heels And keep me company, Because my world is my inferno, In which my sufferings will earn no Reprieve or set me free. In silent brooding on my fate, I''ll take myself away T'' extinguish out the burning fires, Compelling me in my desires To end my life this day. No longer shall I breathe the air Of living happiness, So long as hatred still exists, So long as foul contempt persists, So long as there''s distress. The air I breathe is rank with hate, With anger, fear, regret, From which I cannot seem to ''scape, Except within a dreaming landscape Free of the looming threat. And so in silence shall I sleep And never rise again; I''ll sleep the endless sleep of death When the long sigh of my last breath Will cut my silver chain. In outer darkness shall I wander In endless dreams tonight, When all my soul is free from pain; The only thing that will remain Is seeking out that light.
Why sleeps he not, when others are at rest? ¡ªLord Byron, "Lara"1 Allison was old enough and Brave enough to calmly hear All the details of the rough and Gruesome things we always fear. Allison was just thirteen, Yet her grandpa had no choice; Something he had not foreseen Forced him to scream out his voice. So he had to talk real low, Making Allison lean forward; ''Gainst all odds, she had to know, So her grandpa said, straightforward, "There''s a presence lurking by Just beyond the wall of sight; It''s enough to make you cry, Yet you must not die of fright! "I must tell this bedtime story That the world can''t figure out, ''Cause it''d faint to hear the gory Details, leaving all in doubt. "Yet the story must be told For this curse to run its course, For the witnesses are old And my voice is getting hoarse. "Listen to me well, my child; You''re the only one who can; It''s a story still defiled By the blood lust of a man." Chills descended on them both, Running up and down their spines. "Promise me your silent oath," Said the dying man, "for mine''s "Dwindling with each breath I take, Thinning out each waning breath; Silence please, for your own sake! Do not stir until my death!" So the girl kept silence then, Giving silent ear to him; So the dying man began, Giving life to something grim, "Long ago when I was young, Younger than you are right now, I involved myself among Friends who took up each a vow, "Such a vow as mortal lips Dare not vow upon fair youth; Yet loose lips can sink all ships When they do not speak the truth. "That is how it all began, Ten of us in one vile pact, Knowing nothing of the man Binding us to his contract! "Yet, at first, it all seemed good, Making all our dreams come true, Duping us to think it would Never need our honest due. "Then one day, I noticed that Herman Graves had disappeared; In his place, a baseball bat Stained with blood had then appeared "In his bedroom on the morning. Both his parents screamed and screamed; When we heard, we sank in mourning; All was never as it seemed! "Then police investigated, All the evidence collected, But their efforts were frustrated; Evidence proved disconnected. "Thus we spent our days in fear Of each rumor going ''round That subdued our former cheer, Haunting every former playground. "When a week elapsed in silence, As we all had just recovered, As we healed in slow reprievance, Two more deaths were then discovered. "Leone Brown and Thomas White Were both discovered dead in bed; All the town was up in fright, All of us now filled with dread! "Both were found in bloody pulps, Bludgeoned both with baseball bats Found beside their beds! What gulps We swallowed down our throats, "I can hardly tell you now; Yet we knew as I still know That the curse set on my brow Must die with me when I shall go. "So police investigated, All the evidence collected, But their efforts were frustrated; Parents, cleared, were now suspected. "Thus we spent our days in fear Of each rumor going ''round That destroyed our former cheer, Haunting us on every ground. "So another week went by When some parents moved away; Three of us then said, ''Goodbye''¡ª Moved away within a day. "Then another week elapsed When I heard upon the news Three more children died¡ªcollapsed¡ª Died as they put on their shoes. "Those three children that departed Were not named within the print, Yet we four remaining started To suspect the subtle hint "That the curse was near-complete; Those three children all were doomed¡ª Morton Alders, John Gould, Pete Reynolds. They now lie entombed! "Doubtless cops investigated, All the evidence collected, But their efforts were frustrated; Everyone was now suspected. "Thus we spent our days in fear Of each rumor going ''round, Making this dread fact so clear¡ª We were next! What fears surround "All of us remaining still, Fearing to take to our beds? We would be its final kill, If we failed to keep our heads. "So another week went by, Staying each of us awake In our beds as night went by, Waiting for us each to break. "We all had our walkie-talkies, Talking to each other still, Keeping us awake with stories That we told to keep us still "From the sleep of certain death. Then one night, a silence crept Through us as we held our breath, Hoping none of us had slept. "Then we heard a cry begin, Then a sudden crack and crunch Of a skull collapsing in, Followed by the horrid munch "Of some monster chewing flesh; We screamed out each others'' names, While the chewing sounded fresh¡ª Screamed we all except for James! "Listening for James to speak, Silence only met our ears; Calling now for James to speak, Silence now confirmed our fears! "Then another crunch and crack Sounded through our walkie-talkies, Followed by a swift attack Cutting off our walkie-talkies! "Screaming out at once, we swore And then learned that Edward died; I then screamed, ''Sh-shut the door!'' Shutting mine, I ran to hide "In the closet claustrophobic, Holding still my walkie-talkie; Then I heard between the static Screams in my own walkie-talkie¡ª "Then I listened for my friend, Eric whom I prayed still lived¡ª Only silence would attend, Leaving me so friend-deprived! "Then a silence lingered there Ere I took another breath, As I waited for my share Of a sure and sudden death. "Footsteps sounded in the hall, Then the jiggling of the knob! Now expecting death to fall, I began to moan and sob . . . "When my parents'' voices came, Asking if I''m doing fine; Fearing it was still the game Of the killer''s ruse malign, "So I screamed and screamed and screamed, And I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, Fearing it''s a ruse, it seemed, Fainting where I screamed and sobbed. "Waking in the hospital, Finding that my parents cried, I regained myself a little; When I found my friends all died, "I began to cry again For the names of my best friends (James Linnette and Edward Fenn And Eric Dross) who met their ends. "So I cried and cried back then As I still cry ever since; So the danger that you''re in Starts and ends in this offense. "Pray, dear child¡ªoh, do not start; Listen to my last instruction: When I sleep, I shall depart, But I''ll keep you from destruction. "Once you leave my bedroom hence, You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Lock your bedroom door and shut Yourself in your closet thence; Wait in there no matter what! "Wait and do not stir a breath, Lest the monster hears you out; Do not weep for my own death, Till the morning clears all doubt. "Then I shall not die in vain, But go knowing you''ll survive; Then shall I be cleansed of pain, When I know that you''re alive. Go now! Leave me to my doom!" Allison ran from the room. 2 Allison had shut her door, Locking it with bated breath, Treading lightly on the floor, Fearing for her grandpa''s death. On the verge of brimming tears, All her soul within her burned; All her pluck had changed to fears; All her courage overturned. Now her stomach flipped and flopped, As her beating heart corrupts her, When pulsation nearly stopped At a thought that interrupts her. Broken though she seemed to be, She began to think about All the strange profundity In her grandpa''s words throughout Such a wild and bloody tale, Ended with an anxious warning To escape a monster''s trail By the gleam of fated morning¡ª Such a tale as storytellers Never tell except in dire Need to tell to kindred fellers, Which impending deaths inspire. So exhaling bated breath, Willing all her tears away, She observed the length and breadth Of the bedroom where she''ll stay, Occupying her attention On her happy memories, Easing all the built-up tension To a semblance of ill ease. Many things now came to focus, Concentrated to appear Like a flame-lit flick''ring locus * Shaded with the cast of fear: Boy-band posters on the walls Posed in faux expressive guise; ** On the dressers, girlhood dolls Sat and looked with sightless eyes; Childhood photos framed in steel Now obtained uncanny aspects, Making all her blood congeal At the sight of such effects; Lampshades threw soft rays of light Only to succumb to shade, Wherein past the edge of sight Grew a ghostly night parade In a shiftless silent march For the conquest of her room; Shade on shade, they grow and lurch To complete her grandpa''s doom! In her heart, poor Allison Began to cry and cry and cry; Something in her was undone, Yearning for her wish to die, So she''d see her grandpa still When he breathed his final breath, Yet her grandpa''s iron will Reached her from the brink of death. Now her grandpa''s ghostly voice Whispered softly in her ear, "Dearest child, I have no choice, For my doom lies ever near." "Grandpa, please don''t go," she said; Then she cried and cried and cried. "Dearest child, when I am dead, Do not sorrow," he replied. Then he waited for her say, But when he heard none, he said, "Allison, you need to stay Here inside your room instead. "Try to move on when I''m gone, Even when your parents fight, For when all is said and done, You''re the one to set things right. "Please, I beg you not to cry, But be strong and free and wise; Dare to live and hope and try To love your parents in your eyes." Allison now wiped her face, Wet with tears upon her cheeks, Sniffling mucus with a trace In her voice that chokes and breaks. "Grandpa, why can''t I go with you?" Allison began to say. Then her grandpa said, "I''m with you¡ª Always will forever stay "Here inside your heart of hearts. Nothing, not my nearing death, Nor the stilling of my parts, Nor the stoppage of my breath, "Will part yourself away from me, For I''ll be inside your heart, There to set your sorrows free When I finally depart." Tears renewed upon her face, Tears like acid tinged with love For her grandpa''s dying grace, Tears that she cannot remove. Ere she spoke her turn, soft sighs Rustled through the trees outside; Instantly she stopped her cries, And her eyes now opened wide. Everything began to get Darker than the outside night, Heralding the subtle threat, Dimming incandescent light. Ceiling lights flicked on and off Right above her trembling head; Shadows drifted, running off From her room towards the deathbed Of her grandpa''s dying room, Where poor Allison can''t go To his rescue from his doom, Thus renewing tears of woe. So she waited for the end, Waiting out his fated death, Waiting as her fears portend On the edge of bated breath, Whisp''ring to the stagnant air The fearful summons of a prayer. 3 While poor Allison awaited, Shadows marched in grim parades To those silent heartbeats fated To expire beneath their shades; Rows and rows of shadow people Flitted through the darkest corners, Preying on th'' unwitting sheeple *** Sleeping unaware of warners'' Warnings to keep vigilance For the danger of their presence¡ª Preying on the insolence Of sleepers in a dreaming trance¡ª Weaving bloody effigies That would taunt them with a hex¡ª Leaving gruesome memories That would haunt their intellects. Yet the dying grandpa kept All his fading wits about him, Poised and ready to accept All their tortures laid about him. Darkness spread throughout his room, Dimming every flick''ring lamp, Veiling it with shades of doom, Suspending him in cold and damp. Silent resignation kept Him from giving into fear, Even as they closer crept, Creeping slowly ever-near. Then his breathing came in gasps, As their fingers ''round his neck Clamped in ever-tighter clasps, Almost till his neck would break! Then he struggled with the strength Of sheer desperation fading, Ere collapsing at full length On the bed, his strength degrading; Then a sinking feeling hovered, Paralyzing first his body; Then his breathing next was smothered Over with the stench of bloody Hands upon his mouth and nose, Till his thoughts grew weak and foggy; Then he lapsed into a doze, Making him forever groggy; Then in all-consuming darkness, Cruel and clutching hands reached in, Ripping out his soul in starkness, Ripping till the pain within Forced a scream of agony From his ghostly lips of pain; Pulls and yanks¡ªa ripping spree¡ª Continued till the silver chain, Tying body to the soul, Glowed within the darkened room; All this pulling took its toll On the soul inside the tomb That had once been living flesh, Now a still and cold cadaver Lying ''neath the sheets as fresh As Death itself was ever-after. Yank and rip and yank and rip¡ª Ah, the horror of it all Makes my beating heart to skip, And my skin to creep and crawl! Every yank increased the pain¡ª Scream and scream and scream and scream! Scream on top of scream did reign Over this ungodly dream! Then the silver chain stretched taught, As their bloody hands still yank. Something in his corpse had caught; Something in him now went blank. Pull and tug and pull and tug¡ª All the tugging in the world Can''t release the stubborn plug, Nor drag it to the Netherworld. Something stronger than the darkness Held them back through all their harshness. 4 All the shadows stopped to wonder What (in Heaven, earth or Hell) Could restrain them from their plunder; What exceeds their ghastly spell? So they stood, still holding on, Pondering about this force; Was it God''s eternal brawn? Was it His eternal source? So they thought, almost aloof, Thinking over this inquiry. Then a certain kind of proof In two blazing eyes of glory Thus appeared beneath the bed, Frightening the shadows off; Something stronger than the dead Lingered there amid the standoff. Then those eyes blinked out of sight, Cutting off the only light source In the darkness of the night; Something capered with the force And the power of a god; Something stirred inside the room, Something strong and something odd, Something stronger than the tomb. All the lamps flicked on and off, Giving off a sultry glow In the darkness; then a quaff **** Of sultry air began to grow. When the lamplight flickered on, There behind the hoary bed Stood the form of Allison! All the craven shadows fled, Fleeing from her spiteful glares, While the other shadows stayed Frozen to their spots with stares Fixed upon her vorpal blade. ***** With her vorpal blade in hand, Raising it above her head, Holding doom at her command, Holding judgment o''er the dead, She swung down with all her might, Blazing out the dark with light! 5 All the shadows now were gone; Grandpa''s room was filled with light, And his curse was now undone; Everything was now set right. Through the window''s curtained lace Westered morning in the east, Giving weary night the chase, Till the waning curse had ceased. Dawn was just about to break Past the dark horizon hues, Rousing sleepers to awake With the early songbirds'' coos. Allison stood silent there In her grandpa''s deathbed room, When she noticed with despair Subtle traces of the doom That had overcast the night With the heavy breath of dread; Now she turned to view the sight Of her grandpa in his bed, Still and shiftless as the dead, Nothing heaving up the sheets With the breathing from his head, Nor the heaving chest with heartbeats Pumping life throughout his body, Nor the semblance of its trace Anywhere that could embody Life within his lifeless face. Tears erupted from her eyes At what Allison had seen; She began to recognize What her grandpa meant to mean When he said these words to her: "You''re the one to set things right." In the chaos and the blur Of her downward swing to smite All the shadows from the room, She had cut the silver chain Chaining her grandpa to his doom, Freeing him from all his pain; When she set her grandpa free, Severing his dying breath, She must face the parting fee That she caused her grandpa''s death! So she dropped her vorpal blade, Which now disappeared from sight, Feeling all the guilt that weighed On her shoulders in her plight. So she cried and cried and cried, Wallowing in all her sorrow, Mourning for the one who died By her hand upon the morrow That he prophesied must happen. Then her grandpa now appeared (Fair and strong and not misshapen By the tortures of the weird Forces of the Shadow Realm), Yet to wane in latter years, Feelings ''gan to overwhelm Allison with renewed tears. "Dearest child," her grandpa said, "Know that you have set me free; Sorrow not that I am dead; Live your life for you and me." As her grandpa fades away In the morning''s coming glow, She had one more thing to say: "I promise." And she made it so. Thus she cried with bitter tears, Cleansing out her weary soul, Cleansing all her ling''ring fears, Till her soul (renewed and whole) ''Gan to look upon the sunrise, Courage gleaming in her eyes.
''When men my scythe and darts supply, How great a king of fears am I!'' ¨DThomas Parnell, "A Night-Piece on Death"1 (Death) Where shadows lengthen on the ground, He with the blade will swing it ''round, Engraving on your soul My name; Nothing you do will break My aim! Men of the fight have lost their wits, Entreating Me in crying fits: None will survive when I give chase! Men cry for time in sad disgrace, Yet I am not an entity So turned about so easily! Cry and you cry, yet you won''t shake Your final sentence that I make To send you with My swinging blade Hell-ward bound where all glories fade: Enter that place, and do your time! (Parnell) And so I suffer for my crime, Not just a crime of passion where The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Death Himself takes me on a dare, Daring me to begin my tale, A harmless crime well-boozed with ale. Remember where we dropped our loads? T'' was on the midnight at the crossroads. So take a load off, Death, my Man! So let me see where you began. Upon my proposition made, Pretending He''s already paid, Perhaps he''s just a little shy. Let it all out, my Man, says I. Yet here, He takes a minute''s pause . . . 2 (Death) How can I even state the cause Over the shifting of my state, When I remember not my fate? Gone are my days of innocence; Regrets are all I have e''er since; Even the thought of it became As weary as it is a shame To be the Reaping hand of God, A blade as sharp as it is flawed. King of regret, that''s all I am; I''m just a dunce, a living sham, Not to be trusted by himself; God''s the One who take all the wealth! Of course, I can''t bring up my case For Him to merely strike my face. For even Job, that blameless man, Entreated God when He began Asking the questions Job can''t answer¨D Reminds me of that no-good cancer, Satan with all his suave and sass! All''s good, until he screws my ass; Man, that''s when I had learned too late! It''s time for you to meet your fate!
Last night, with many cares and toils oppress''d Weary, I laid me on a couch to rest¡ª ¡ªEdgar Allen Poe, "Poetry"1 This world of lies would have outsiders thinking My world of deep reflection''s just a shrinking Of wits into the confines of phantasms, Mere figments of my weird enthusiasms! But these are not the ravings of a madman, Nor are they tricks of some inventive con man, Nor are these lines confabulated rhymes Concealing all the tracks of fancied crimes. Visions there are, although they''re not my own; And lunacy, although it lurks unknown To scientific minds of great invention¡ª Unknown because they give it no attention. These moving shadows do exist, believe me, Although the skeptic''s sure to disbelieve me; Our human eyes are just a pair of lenses, The most restricted of our earthly senses. There''s more beyond the spectrum of apparent Colors depicting all the hues inherent In everything we see inside the veil; Beyond it lies a world of boundless scale. 2 Tonight, with many cares and toils oppressing, I lay me on a couch for decompressing My worries of today and of the morrow¡ª Tonight, no need for trouble till tomorrow. Upon the couch, into the cushions sinking, Methinks I see the lights around me blinking, Blinking for want of electricity, A common want in this accurs¨¨d city! As such, I cannot help but form a smile, As if my state would have me still beguile My misery to shades of odious humor, In which my life lies tangled up in rumor. Within this state, my thoughts would often wander; I''m lying on the couch to rest and ponder, For Sleep''s a woman that I yearn to clasp, Yet oft she slips beyond my mortal grasp. I while the minutes by and close my eyes, Awaiting sleep, my most elusive prize; The minutes pass, the father clock ticks on, Yet time and time again, I only yawn. My world lies in the darkest shades of light, Wherein I spend insomniac hours at night Wondering over ever-lovely you; In you, my thoughts and troubles still renew. I cannot help but think of former days, When you and I would while those summer rays By telling all our deepest darkest stories¡ª By waxing nigh poetic on our glories. I''d fall for all your grand conspiracies Of lurking infamies and enemies; You''d be the persecuted heroine, And I would be the friend you''d shelter in. And after supper in those twilight hours, Or in the midst of summer''s sudden showers, I''d ease your mind with eldritch tales of lore¡ª Stories of goblins, ghosts and ghoulish folklore. Within the well of both our lurking fears, We''d bear our souls in whispers, giving ears To both our glories with our youthful might, You by afternoon, me by the edge of night. We''d share the glorious fight, casting our spells To bar the mundane horrors of our hells, Until that gentle Sleep enfolds us both Within the marriage of her soothing oath. 3 Slowly I ope my eyes and look around; The walls of varnished paneling abound With shades and shadows staining my world in gloom¡ª Staining each glimpse of you inside your tomb. Oh, how I wish to be entombed right there Beside your earthly form, so young and fair; My world of tales are nothing without you, You who would listen, so faithful and true. Oh, how I wish to hear your charming voice, In which my weary heart would then rejoice To hear your sweet conspiracies untold¡ª To be your faithful ear, even when I''m old. I''d fly to you as moths fly t''wards the light Beneath our canopy of stars at night; I''d weave my spell of modern fairy tales, And you would dwell on all the eerie details. To hear your charming voice after many years¡ª That alone shall be the honor of my tears, When I shall hear your eldritch whispers weave Your spell around me ere this life I leave. And so begins the everlasting vigil, In which I play my Dante, you your Vergil, * And I would follow you into the gloaming, Wherein my restless soul''s forever roaming. And so the father clock ticks on and on Towards the endless march to ageless dawn; Go and I shall go, rise and I shall rise, And I shall follow you into the skies. I''ll follow on the whispers of the wind And cherish all the tales you leave behind, Your siren songs of sweet conspiracies Sighing through the zephyrs of my memories. I''ll linger where you lie inside your tomb And dream that deathless wake wherein the gloom Forever lies forgotten on the floor, Long after I escape the spectral door. And when I close upon your sacred shade, Wherein my miseries would slowly fade And disappear into excelsis gloria, ** I''ll linger on your shade''s phantasmagoria! *** 4 And yet the father clock ticks on and on, Dragging me from my thoughts of you whereon I start up off the couch and nearly scream; Ah, curs¨¨d are these fleeting states of dream! Upon that clock I fix a pensive glare, And back upon myself the clock would stare, Stare and only stare with stupid nonchalance¡ª Stare as the crowd would stare in their response. And so I pick myself up off the couch, Feeling my weary mind roll in the pouch That forms the temple of my weary brain; Ah, such unease seems ever my domain. A sudden dizzy spell o''ertakes my poise, Stuffing my ears to bleeding full of noise; I squint my eyes and clench down on my teeth, Till sound and dizzy spell would let me breathe. I waver, my head reeling to and fro, Until the nauseating overflow Subsides and leaves me weary on my feet, Leaving me barely standing in defeat. Ere long I stand, I move my weary steps And pace about until the reeling stops; My world reduces to the phantom throws Of many melancholy shades and shadows. And in between these shades and shadows streak The faintest wisps of light, and every squeak Of floorboard thrills me¡ªfills me with alarm, With countless forms of otherworldly harm. A darkness more than night steals through the room, Enveloping my world within the tomb Of souls adrift on seas of circumstance, Waiting out their judgements for another chance. I hear their voices wafting past my ears, Whispering rumors deeper than my fears; And in the midst of such susurrant voices, **** I move my weary steps and choose my choices. Either to turn my steps t''wards couch and cushion And try to sleep away this vast confusion Of voices crowding up my mind with rumor, Or move my steps ahead in churlish humor. Ah, humor¡ªsuch a damnable emotion; It wears the clothes of levity and motion, But only to deceive its witless wearer Into committing some egregious error. I look behind, beholding still the couch, On which I often in depression slouch My weary body in attempts to sleep, Perchance to dream and in my dreaming weep¡ª Weep for the loss of her eternal shade¡ª Weep for the loss of such a tempting maid¡ª Weep for the loss of her conspiracies¡ª Weep for the loss of such securities. For life is but an empty space around me Without her wondrous intrigues to surround me, And all my eldritch tales lie in suspension Upon the pageless tome of comprehension. 5 Into these thoughts, the father clock ticks on The tune of yet another hour bygone, Breaking the ghastly spell of shade and shadow Like candles breaking through the afterglow. A row of candelabra light the way Into a hall of moving shadow-play, Moving to the flickers of each swaying candle¡ª Ah, such a sight that only few could handle. Into this moving shadow-play I steel My nerves upon the threshold of true zeal, Striking my heels upon the creaking floorboards To scare what ghost or ghoul I come towards. Yet in my heart, the thumping of each pulse Reveals my tenuous courage to be false; A mere pretension stands in place of fear; A breath of doubt makes courage insincere! And yet¡ªby God¡ªI tread on through the gloom Of shifting shadow-play towards my doom! Her memory now follows on my right, Moving in shadows past the edge of sight. She disappears just as I turn my head, Mocking me as cruel immortals mock the dead, But lingers at the corners of my eyes Like phantom shadows lurking in disguise. And so I tread beside this shade of death And breathe her fumes with every fearful breath; My journey now becomes an odious show, Wherein dead tears flood up my eyes with woe, For memories of you still shake my heart, Serving to form the wellspring of my art, Writing these rhymes of blood on parchment dead¡ª Writing these lines to catch the tears I shed. My life is nothing without you to share it, For living''s but a yoke to those who bear it Alone, befriending only moving shadows That linger through their nightmares on their pillows. Into the endless gloom of paths unknown To those who''ve yet to sorrow and bemoan The passage of a love to shades of night, I make my vigil through the flickering light, Losing all sense of time and space between; The fog of memory becomes a screen To lead me on and yet obscure the way, An ever-shifting image of a fey ***** That leads me to the tomb of my lost love¡ª Lost to this world but not the world above. So must I tread, my thoughts a whirling haze, Searching for an exit through this restless craze That whispers through the ancient lips of yore The endless chant of "Never . . . Nevermore!" Such words (and more besides) fill up my skull With memories I cannot hope to quell! A-flood with memories I can''t unclog, What''s this I see beyond the restless fog? A door? Is this a new hallucination? What lies beyond this newest captivation? I tread on closer to it now expecting The door to vanish as I''m now suspecting, And yet it stays there resolute and strong; It never wavers as I walk along. And so I tread towards the door in wonder, Drifting along and seeing it get bigger, My hand now stretching out towards the knob To turn it as my heart begins to throb. I drift and drift towards the tempting door; I rest my hand upon the knob before The chance to ''scape this place might fade to nil, But then a stab of worry keeps me still. I know not where it comes from, this queer qualm, Yet something wrong now shakes my weary calm; Blotting the vile emotion from my thoughts, I ope the door ere I connect the dots. ****** Part 2. Adulteration
There are chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion. ¡ªEdgar Allen Poe, "Masque of the Red Death"1 The father clock then greets my late arrival By ticking off the time of festival, A time that stays a thorn upon my mind As one adrift on some disastrous wind. I see the faces of my closest friends Conversing on queer topics, odds and ends; What of these things I hardly can remember, As these remind me of that bleak December. Ah, yes¡ªthe scene begins to take its shape With cloudy hints of love beyond the drape Of memory, for I have yet to ask For her forgiveness on this evening''s masque. Leaving my friends at table, I pursue My lover''s mercy and our love renew; I stalk along the walls of dancing halls And search for her, the thrall of all my thralls. I look around the sea of dancing masks To spy my love, a daunting task of tasks, As masks of every lurid shape and style Fill all the dancing halls with aspects vile. Yet all the strength of youth burns through my soul, So that the prospect makes a sweeter goal; Through congregations of mad couples dancing, I search for her at every fervent glancing. I''d thrill to find my sweet inamorata ******* Upon the staircase, balcony, veranda, Perchance to even faint upon the sight Of her, whom I''d elope with in the night. I''d bear the deepest secrets of my soul And bear up all her weaknesses, the role I know by heart since childhood days of yore; I''d fill her heart to brimming like before. Yet looking on throughout the dancing halls, Amidst the chattering hum against the walls, I raise my eyes towards the balcony And gain a glimpse of her, my absentee! Before I call her name, she turns away; I dash towards the stairs and up the way To meet her ere I lose her in her flight¡ª I cannot bear to lose her love tonight! Cresting atop the staircase, I lose my chance To see her go with yet another glance; Turning to other couples, I now ask, "Have you seen the lady with the silver mask?" And one by one and two by two, I ask About her whereabouts, a frantic task That leads me in diverse directions thither, Leading me on to where I know not whither. And yet I ask and search and ask and search, Until I lose my way and start to lurch About, meandering along the ways They point in jest through obscure passageways. And so I wander through obscurer hallways, Thinking that I would stay forsaken always, Hiding from all my friends to hide my tears¡ª Hiding from everyone to hide my fears. And so I wander like the wandering Jew, Devoid of that companionship I knew When Love bestowed her graces on my head Before I lost her favor. Now I''m dead¡ª Dead to the world that still revolves around me¡ª Dead to the universe that still surrounds me¡ª Dead to the love that I cannot go near¡ª Dead to the love whose love I still hold dear. For life is but an empty space around me Without her wondrous intrigues to surround me, And all my eldritch tales lie in suspension Upon the pageless tome of comprehension. 2 A darkness more than night descends upon My heart of hearts; the father clock ticks on The fatal tune of midnight through the air, As if the ghouls of night are treading there¡ª There on the blurry edges of penumbra ******** Before retreating back into the umbra ********* Of utter darkness, on which shadows feed To sate a hunger of most urgent need¡ª There in a blink of truth and lingering doubt Just beyond my mortal ken to spy it out, Concealing ghost or ghoul or djinn or goblin, Haunting my mind just like a haunted cabin¡ª There in this cesspool''s cesspool of despair, Where mind becomes an ocean full of air So rank with all these memories of you That rhyme can barely give these thoughts their due! And so I tread into progressive shades And shadows that resembles those of Hades; Alone am I, treading through empty halls With echoes that resound along the walls¡ª With ever-fleeting snatches of my name Upon the sighing lips of my true flame, Forever reaching through the fog of time With broken melodies that breathe my crime . . . For crime it was that stole across my eyes, When I discovered all your vows were lies¡ª When I espied you with your new-found lover, Sharing your vile conspiracies that hover About my head in memories of you¡ª When by your lips you proved your vows untrue And thus defied me with that faithless kiss Shared with another man in whore-like bliss! How much I burned¡ªby God¡ªhow much I burned To grab his head and have it grossly turned; How much I wished¡ªby God¡ªhow much I wished To have your head lopped off and grossly squished Slowly between the heavy iron presses, Staining the walls as you have stained your dresses With all the sins that man enjoyed between Your slutty legs¡ªoutrageous and obscene! Such were my thoughts when I espied you there Engaging in your traitorous affair; I hid myself, while you (with knowing winks And gentle words and smiles that hint of kinks I dare not think of) led your eager swain Towards the bedroom just to make it plain What you intended! God, I''m so deranged To think you''d have my love for you exchanged With such a low-born dandy as you have Subjected to your will, as if a slave; I''ll kill that bastard-slave and set him free, And then I''ll sate my jealousies in thee! You locked the chamber door, whereat I hearkened ********** And felt my blood run hot as my thoughts darkened Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. To hear those slutty sounds of heavy breathing, On which my raging breast was sorely heaving. You tore my heart apart with just a kiss, Compounding it with words that led to this, And so shall I now make decisive leave Only to return and see you sorely grieve! 3 The father clock ticks at the future knell Upon the fiend I''ll shortly send to hell! And yet the bloody mind must be a cold one In order to accomplish such a bold one As predetermined murder can allow, For vengeance to be executed now; Ah, by the turning of conceited thoughts To murder, I''ll untie the fickle knots That these transgressors consummated with Adulterous intentions through the scythe Of genius schemes. So go to work, my brains, And so relieve me of these heartsick pains! Minutes have passed in deepest contemplations, Wracking my thoughts in various compilations, Until the semblance of epiphany Strikes through the din of misty memory. The festive masquerade lasts seven days Within December''s wintertide; the ways To kill a man may take on many forms, But I shall be the Hamlet that performs *********** The murder that all witnesses remember As just an accident on this December; Yet to enact this plan of genius skill, I must observe the prey to make the kill. And so, beginning on the second day, I tail and spy them out in every way For some two days and nights, observing both From afar behind the garden undergrowth. In those two days and nights, they celebrate With all their friends before they consummate Their affair in that one second-floor bedroom That I had eavesdropped in my brooding gloom. And as I kept my vigil through the night, I saw that shameless dandy in my sight Upon the balcony to see the morrow¡ª Upon that balcony shall spill the sorrow Of my enamored wench when she''ll awaken To a tragedy that has her shaken; And thus, she''ll fly to me in all her sorrow, And I shall comfort her through night and morrow. And so, upon the third day of my plot, I spy them at a table ''midst the the onslaught Of conversation with their friends and mine. The time is now to see to my design! I stalk towards the stairs and up the way, Avoiding everyone I''ve seen today, Cresting atop the staircase with the aim To play the Hamlet of this vengeful game. I stalk my way through every obscure hallway That led towards their room; I''m making headway, Stealing through the shadows like an unseen host, Until I cross my doppelg?nger ghost! ************ I''m frozen in my steps in all my terror, Looking at my double-self in horror; I hold my breath and watch myself pass by, And watch him disappear before the eye Of doubtful sanity could shut him out; My coming doom shall wait upon this route; If I do not enact my plan this instant, I''ll drink the bile of vengeance inconsistent With all my predetermined plans a-shamble, In which I''ll pay so high a bloody gamble; I sprint along the corridors of gloom And steal into the quiet of their bedroom. A moment lingers as I catch my breath, Then steal into the balcony where death Shall shortly fall upon that bastard-lad, With just one alteration that I''ll add. I spy surroundings, crouch beside the rail, And with steel wire, I make the irons to fail When any weight is placed on them at all, And so will cause the leaner''s fatal fall. I work on this for maybe past an hour, Completing it as I begin to scour The genius of my work upon the irons; No lawyer shall suspect this con of cons. The work is done; I take my leave and steel Out of the room with happiness and zeal Inside my breast, and feel the cleverness Of it relieve these burdens of distress Off of my weary shoulders as I went Out of the gloom a most triumphant gent; I walk back to the chatter of the crowd, Feeling myself so happy and so proud, Descending down the stairs just like a king, So overly contented with my smiling That I attracted unforeseen attention In all my satisfied incomprehension. And so, I looked towards the sound and saw My lady standing their with looks of awe (And maybe shock) upon her comely face, Without a smidgen''s smidgen of disgrace Blushing upon her cheeks. Ah, saucy woman! Indeed, you are a most be-fetching demon With eyes as sweet and innocent as youth Belying every modesty of truth. And yet, I swallow all my hateful gall And smile upon the mistress of my thrall, Wearing a happy mask to hide the spite Lingering on my features from all sight. I said, "My lady, how I searched you out On every floor and hallway all throughout These very grounds. I thought I saw your ghost Some days ago amidst this crowded host." "Ah, still you go on with your ghostly fancies," She said. "I told my friends about your stories, And they are dying now to hear of them." I said, "I guess I can still whip up some "Of the ones I still remember from the past, At least as far back as my fancies last; But pray, who is this fellow here I''ve yet To be acquainted with? Or else we''ve met." "Indeed, we have not, sir," the bastard said, Stretching out his hand for me to shake instead Of bowing in the ancient English way. And so, I shook his hand without delay And said, "I''m still not used to shaking hands The Persian way, yet I can make amends." He said, "Excuse my gruff American Mannerisms to a fellow Englishman. "I''ve traveled much across th'' Atlantic pond, Becoming well-acquainted with and fond Of barley whiskey and of barley bread, Which often will at times go to my head." The crowd and my dear lady now all laughed, And all I wanted was to grab the haft Of ax or hatchet, cleave in half his head, And laugh as madmen laugh to mock the dead. Yet notwithstanding all my hatred for The fiend who used my lady for a whore, I took it all in stride and laughed with them, Knowing that ere long I will be rid of him. 4 I introduced myself to all her friends, With all my friends conversing on their weekends; I played along in put-on merriment, And suffered through it to my detriment. And so, I drank and ate and drank and ate My fill of feast from afternoon to eight At winter''s eventide, when all the night Begot the starry dazzle from the moonlight. We all were so enchanted, all of us, That even I forgot the vengeful fuss That had compelled me to enact my crime, On which forever runs this tuneless rhyme. Methought I felt the childhood ache of yore Upon the bosom of my heart that swore A thousand thousand words upon her head, Words of such love and constancy that said, ''For in the present of these transient hours, Please spend it here with me¡ªthe time is ours!'' Oh, how I wished these moments last forever, Even if I am doomed to see them never Again with mortal eyes and happy heart, Which I immortalize with all my art. Entranced for many minutes'' lengths of time, I now must delve into the heinous crime . . . For crime it was, when all was said and done, A crime of fated punishment begun With cruel intentions to exact revenge, Now turned on me to punish and avenge My cruel designs with blades of bitter guilt, Exacted on the cruel designs I built, Exacted on my instrument of death, Exacted on the jealous huff of breath. But ere it comes, the plot moves very slowly, As if the darkest hours of night unholy Drag their weary spans in undulating coils, While my yearning heart of hearts stirs up and boils. In conversation, we walk through the ballroom And up the stairs head now towards the bedroom, Passing the trek with jokes and laughs and smiles, As levity''s own laughter oft beguiles These heedless ignoramuses with laughter, Only to strike them unawares with slaughter; Such are my thoughts as we tread through the gloom Of corridors towards that fatal room. We ope the doors; we file into the room ****** With many a jest and joke upon the moon; We take our seats upon a chair or couch, While on the couch''s cushions I now slouch. We pass our time in further conversation, Until it rests on me to give narration To one of my fantastic eldritch tales; They want to listen to the scary details. I protest in pretended modesty And say, "I''m rusty in all honestly With words that bring a chill upon the spine, For I had not told tales since I was nine." "I know that you''ll do splendidly, my dear," My faithless mistress said. "So have now fear, But only tell us what begins to grow Upon your mind, as words begin to flow." Those eldritch words of fantasy come not Into my brain, but only come to nought; Then epiphany comes thrilling through my nerves; My simpleminded victim still deserves A veiled confession to my worthy crime, A worthy climax to a genius rhyme, And so I gird my nerves with nerves of steel, Saying with all force of vengeful zeal, "A darkness more than night had sunk upon A weary heart; the father clock ticked on The fatal tune of midnight through the air, As if the ghouls of night were treading there¡ª "There on the blurry edges of penumbra ******** Before retreating back into the umbra ********* Of utter darkness, on which shadows fed Upon the sleepless remnants of the dead¡ª "There in a blink of truth and lingering doubt Just beyond his mortal ken to spy it out, Concealing ghost or ghoul or djinn or goblin, Haunting his mind just like a haunted cabin¡ª "There in his cesspool''s cesspool of despair, Where mind became an ocean full of air So rank with all these memories of her That rhyme could barely quell them with succor! "And so he tread on in progressive shades And shadows that resembled those of Hades; Alone was he, treading through empty halls With echoes that resounded on the walls¡ª "With ever-fleeting snatches of his name Upon the sighing lips of his true flame, Forever reaching through the fog of time With broken melodies that breathe his crime . . . "For crime it was that stole across his eyes, When he discovered that her vows were lies¡ª When he espied her with a new-found lover, Sharing her vile conspiracies that hover "About his head in memories of youth¡ª When by her lips she proved her vows uncouth And thus defied him with that faithless kiss Shared with another man in whore-like bliss! "How much he burned¡ªby God¡ªhow much he burned To grab his head and have it grossly turned; How much he wished¡ªby God¡ªhow much he wished To have her head lopped off and grossly squished "Slowly between the heavy iron presses, Staining the walls as she had stained her dresses With all the sins that man enjoyed between Her slutty legs¡ªoutrageous and obscene!" At this, collective gasps slip from their open Mouths, as if their jaws hung loose and broken; At this, the bastard starts to look about, As if his very crime was figured out; At this, my mistress looks upon my face, Whereat I grin and give her heart the chase, And so her eyes begin to widen in Their sockets, as if caught in acts of sin; At this, I relish in their shock and awe, Witnessing my plot move on without a flaw, And so an evil smirk creep up my face, As I continue on in easy grace, "Such were his thoughts when he espied her there Engaging in her traitorous affair; He hid himself, while she (with knowing winks And gentle words and smiles that hint of kinks "He dared not think of) led her shame-faced swain Towards the bedroom just to make it plain What she intended! He was so deranged To think she''d have his love for her exchanged "With such a low-born dandy as she''d have Subjected to her will, as if a slave; He''d kill that bastard-slave and set him free, And then he''d sate in her his jealousy! "She locked the chamber door, whereat he hearkened ********** And felt his blood run hot as his thoughts darkened To hear those slutty sounds of heavy breathing, On which his raging breast was sorely heaving. "She tore his heart apart with just a kiss, Compounding it with words that led to this, And so did he now make decisive leave Only to return and see her sorely grieve!" At this, my audience is now upset; At this, the bastard ''gins to sweat and sweat; At this, my mistress starts with such distress That I begin to wonder at my progress; At this, I feel the smirk become sadistic, Now widening to something hedonistic, And so I grin and gloat upon the way I have my victims so distressed, and say, "The father clock ticked at the future knell Upon the fiend he''d shortly send to hell! And yet the bloody mind must be a cold one In order to accomplish such a bold one "As predetermined murder can allow, For vengeance to be executed now; Ah, by the turning of conceited thoughts To murder, he''d untie the fickle knots "That these transgressors consummated with Adulterous intentions through the scythe Of genius schemes. And so he worked his brain, And so relieve himself of heartsick pain! "Minutes then passed in deepest contemplations, Wracking his thoughts in various compilations, Until the semblance of epiphany Struck through the din of misty memory. "The masquerade lasts only seven days Within December''s wintertide; the ways To kill a man may take on many forms, But he shall act the Hamlet that performs *********** "The murder that all witnesses remember As just an accident that bleak December; Yet to enact this plan of genius skill, He must observe the prey to make the kill. "And so, beginning on the second day, He tailed and spied them out in every way For some two days and nights, observing both From afar behind the garden undergrowth. "In those two days and nights, they''d celebrate With all their friends before they consummate Their affair in that one second-floor bedroom That he had eavesdropped in his brooding gloom. "And as he kept his vigil through the night, He saw that shameless dandy in his sight Upon the balcony to see the morrow¡ª Upon that balcony would spill the sorrow "Of his enamored wench when she''d awaken To a tragedy that has her shaken; And thus, she''d fly to him in all her sorrow, And he would comfort her through night and morrow. "And so, upon the third day of his plot, He spied them at a table ''midst the the onslaught Of conversation with their friends at nine. The time was now to see to my design! "He stalked towards the stairs and up the way, Avoiding everyone he''d seen that day, Cresting atop the staircase with the aim To play the Hamlet of his vengeful game. "He stalked his way through every obscure hallway That led towards their room; he''s making headway, Stealing through the shadows like an unseen host, Until he crossed his doppelg?nger ghost! ************ "He''s frozen in his steps in all his terror, Looking at his double-self in horror; He held my breath and watched himself pass by, And watched him disappear before the eye "Of doubtful sanity could shut him out; His coming doom awaited on his route; If he did not enact his plan that instant, He''d drink the bile of vengeance inconsistent "With all his predetermined plans a-shamble, In which he''d pay so high a bloody gamble; He sprinted through the corridors of gloom And stole into the quiet of their bedroom. "A moment lingered as he caught his breath, Then stole into the balcony where death Would shortly fall upon that bastard-lad, With just one alteration that he''d add. "He spied surroundings, crouched beside the rail, And with steel wire, he made the irons to fail When any weight was placed on them at all, And so will cause the leaner''s fatal fall. "He worked on this for maybe past an hour, Completing it as he began to scour The genius of his work upon the irons; No lawyer should suspect this con of cons¡ª" My mistress starts to breathe in heaving fits, And leaves the table in chaotic spirits; I start up after her, and then the bastard Throws accusations at me like a dastard, Restraining me from going after her, For which I turn about harshly swear; My mistress now runs t''wards the double-doors Into the frosty night beyond those doors. Her steps within that interval of time Take on the speedy wings of death that mime The stab of guilt inside my breast to plea, For ere I even turn to see her flee, The bastard throws me down and follows her, Whereat a strain of panic screams of danger Inside my beating breast for her own safety, As if the ghost of guilt now comes to chase me. And so, I follow after both of them Beyond the double-doors and witness him In heated argument with her, as though The world of countless eyes would have him show Himself to be absolved of some egregious Sin that now endangers his prestigious Name. I boldly walk into this night of blame And reprimand her for her act of shame. She says, "By God, there''s more to this than you Can ever hope to know! Untrue¡ªuntrue Have I become for just a fleeting spell, Only to drag you also through my hell!" "What do you mean by this?" I ''gin to say, When in a moment all was torn away; That bastard suitor grabbed her by the arm And threw her back across the rails of harm. The rails give way; the night fills with her screams; The gruesome thud (which plagues my nightly dreams) Signals the death of my beloved mistress; The bastard turns and sprints in all distress Through double-doors and bedroom door, Past the startled audience I had before Thrilled with all the guile of my poetic art; And all the while, I sorrow for my part When I creep to the edge and see her there, Motionless within the moonlit rays. Despair Now takes a-hold of me when I perceive the blood Now spreading from her head, from which the thud Of impact still resounds within my dreams, And so I fill the night with my own screams; I scream her name into the bitter night, And nearly throw myself off in my plight . . . But all her friends then grab me just in time, Before I consummate my heinous crime In grief. What can assuage this immortal Ache than to live in penitent survival? The father clock then tolls its gravest knell Upon the midnight of my grieving spell, On which forever after tolls for me What could have been and now can never be. 5 The interval between that night and this, In which I pen these numbers vis-¨¤-vis, ************* Is like the contrast ''twixt the day and night; There is no hope for me to set things right. I cannot else recall what happened after, Because disaster follows on disaster, So discombobulating everything ************** Into a blur of half-remembered puking¡ª Of insane fits of grieving, anger, hope (A never-ending cycle when I mope), Followed by long intervals of sanity, In which I pine away my own humanity¡ª Of ever-growing binges on that drink To ease my nerves, perhaps to even shrink My sorrows to a spell of happiness That lives upon the name of drunkenness. And in the midst of this great twilight world, Which fate and guilt have me forever hurled, I do recall that man was apprehended For the murder that I had intended To be the instrument of his demise; Now with every breath I take, my very eyes Accuse me with the deed inside the mirror, In which I now avoid to look in horror. Authorities have jailed him for manslaughter, And while in jail (I''ve heard) he died of laughter, Laughing until he died of heart attack, Leaving me with no suspicion on my track. I am now rid of him, but it had come Upon the highest price, the deepest sum That was and always will be my own guilt, On which by cruel designs I had it built. Sometimes in contemplation, I do think About those evil thoughts I had that link Me to a vengeance I in bitterness Unleashed upon the head of my own mistress. Oh, how I wish I''d ears to hear the dead! What grand conspiracy would she have said, Had she survived the fall or never fell? If mortal ears could hear ghosts speak at all, What meant she when she said there''s more to this Than I can hope to know? I shan''t dismiss That final riddle from my mistress'' lips, From which the fatal secret never drips. For just a fleeting moment in her spell, She has condemned me to this endless hell Of wondering forever what she meant, Which I in nightly vigils still augment In restless dreams¡ªin ever-growing slices Of death I still enact in the abysses Of waking twilight and of dreaming gloom, Fixating on the glories of her tomb. What grand conspiracy is left unsaid Between the supple lips of the undead? What secret does she keep inside her heart That slowly tears my sanity apart? And in the stormy passions of such rage, Why can''t I let this go and turn the page? I do not know, nor shall I ever know, Nor can I ever hope to know. And so I follow on the whispers of the wind And cherish still the tales she left behind, Her siren songs of sweet conspiracies Sighing through the zephyrs of my memories. And so a darkness more than astral night Surrounds me in its sable folds of blight, In which a quiet calm descends upon My fading state of life so woebegone. And yet the sleep of death is ever-sweet, Sweet enough to be a crime to e''er repeat Within the day and night of my own life, Reliving both the heaven and the strife That was and always will be mine to find, And for a moment even leave behind The endless cycle when I lay myself On a bed of roses she arranged herself. Part 3. Consummation
But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we¡ª ¡ªEdgar Allan Poe, "Annabel Lee"1 I then awoke: the quilt of scattered roses Shimmered like drops of blood upon the meadow, Each drop of blood like every tear of sorrow I shed in grief, sustaining such cruel loses Upon my heart of hearts that now reposes Here in this childhood realm of memory: Perchance within this tarnished sanctuary, Somewhere lies my mistress where her Rose is Still in full bloom on consecrated ground; Perchance within this field of emerald green, Her deathless Rose is waiting to be found Somewhere within the confines of this scene. I looked around and spied her Rose right there, Glistening in the realms of my despair. 2 Onward I trod, determined to obtain The Rose that promises to set me free, And as I crouched to pluck the petaled beauty, A whisper of my name makes me restrain Myself and leave it where it must remain; I turned my gaze and saw my lover there A few feet from her Rose. I stopped to stare, Then found myself transformed into a child again! I looked again and saw my love transformed Into a child as innocent and rare As ever children were so fashioned, formed By God''s own loving hands with loving care. As children shall we consummate our bliss With wondrous tales that we would reminisce. 3 I reached out for her hand, and when I clutched it, A thrill of happiness struck through my heart And tingled through my fingers with a smart, Whereon I jolted up when I had touched it And in my eagerness so nearly crushed it That I let go the instant she had winced; The instant that my hurting her evinced *************** Upon my face, she grasped my hand and hushed it, Soothing my worries with her siren voice, Soothing away my sorrows of despair, Instilling in me reason to rejoice And giving me new reason to forbear From throwing curses on my eagerness And adding to my wellspring of distress. 4 Holding her hand, I wandered through the meadow, Beholding in her face the grace and charm That ever could disarm my fears and arm My heart with hope and pluck against the shadow Of despair; now hand in hand, we walked the flow Of swaying stalks, a sea of emerald green Beneath a moon that beautifies the scene With gleams of light, setting the field aglow Against a dreamy canopy of stars. The consummation of our bliss draws nigh, As I now know that all of this is ours, Mine by sheer persistence, hers by every sigh That whispers her conspiracies so near¡ª And whispers her dark secrets in my ear . . . 5 A wicked grin creeps up my face; a look Of fear then lights upon her searching eyes, And something innocent in me now dies To see her shaken so when she mistook My jest for something presaging a spook, So with my words I tell my eldritch tales To comfort her before her visage pales . . . When something that I nearly overlook Now captures my attention and my horror: Her eyes then bleed out from their sockets full Of blood, and in the revelation of my terror, I stagger in surprise and try to pull Away from her strong grasp, and in my dreams I fill this verging nightmare with my screams!
He who fights with monsters might take care, lest he thereby become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you. ¡ªFriedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, Chapter IV: Maxims and Interludes, Aphorism 1461 Ember and Leer sat petrified Within their hanging cages, For both of them had seen a ghost girl Visiting from past ages, As if to frighten them in their Distressing circumstances; And if she came to terrify them With unforeseen advances, Leer thought that maybe she knew where He and his friend are at, But fearful Ember had misgivings And stayed silent as a cat, And only gazed upon this specter Before she disappeared From view, and only then did he Acknowledge such a weird And eerie visitation. After He found his wits again, He said, "If that was an illusion, Then maybe we''re insane, "And all this place around us is Just a nightmare waiting For both of us to wake up from As we''re here contemplating¡ª" "Enough!" Leer said, a-standing in His cage. "We have t'' accept The fact that everything we''ve seen Is real," and here he stepped Towards the edge of his own cage And looked around the cavern (Looking below and looking up), Then spied a glowing lantern A-floating through the air before him, Until it stopped just so, And through its light there floated up A chain from down below That went its way towards the ceiling Unseen above his head. So stared and gaped the awestruck With superstitious dread, While Ember turned his gaze away But looked on still, despite The brilliance of the spectacle A-blinding his own sight. The lantern then transformed into Another hanging cage, Wherein there slept in deep repose A girl about their age. Then Ember said, a-pointing, "That''s The ghost girl we just saw!" And Leer, he looked and saw her, too, Gazing at her in awe. Leer said, "Do you believe me now?" And Ember said he did, So Leer now said, "We have to wake her And ask her where we''re hid¡ª" "But do you think she knows," said Ember, "Wherein this place we are? And do you think she''ll still remember Her ghostly visit here?" "I do not know for sure," Leer said, "Until we wake her up." And so they called and clapped their hands and Rattled their jailbird setup Into a noisy buildup. 2 When Allison roused from her sleep, She woke to such a clamor That she at first began to scream And then to outright stammer Such words of gibberish that she Can''t understand their meaning. After a time, she rose and oped Her eyes and rubbed them, gleaning One glance towards the noisy source, And found the two lost boys; She said, "I thought you two were dead! That bastard''s ghastly ploys "Have cheated me enough, and now I''m here inside this horrid place!" She looked again towards the boys And sighed in her disgrace. "Do you know where we are?" Leer said, But Allison was mute And only shook her head and said, "Within a single minute, "I would have gotten both of you Out of this place if I Knew exactly where we are right now And how t'' escape and fly." But just as she had given up, One of the boy then said, "We saw you floating by our cages, But I don''t think you''re dead." Now Allison looked at that boy Beyond her prison cell And said, "When I had peered your Your cages where you dwell, "I only saw two skeletons And though you both had died, But that was just the bastard''s spell! God, why should he have lied?" "Who is this ''bastard'' that you speak of?" Leer said; then Ember asked, "When Leer and I were in the park, Did he send out those masked "A-shambling phantoms after us? We took our wayward flight Into the woods and got ourselves Lost in our hast and fright." She said, "I don''t know who he is, But he''s much stronger than I am and wields the blade I have Far better than I can. "And as for those two shambling things, I saw them disappear Just as you said, but I got lost Along the way in fear . . . ." And so she told them her adventure, And both boys heard her out, The listeners and storyteller Linked in th'' exchange throughout, But when she neared her story''s end About her ghostly visit, Our Allison cut off her words. Then Ember said, "What is it?" "We might be able to escape," She said after a time, "But you two have to let me sleep Upon it in the meantime," And with those words, she manifested Her vorpal blade in hand And swung with all her might across The cage bars with a backhand Swing and destroyed them right in front Of both her watchers with Their mouths agape in shock and awe, Both witness to a myth Becoming true before their eyes; Now Allison, she laid Herself down on her back and went To sleep beside her blade. Both boys then waited for a time, Exchanging looks between them, And saw the ghost of Allison Rise up and reconvene them By floating out across the span Between her cage and theirs; She floated to them, blade in hand, Ignoring both their stares, Then raised her blade across Leer''s cage And broke the bars away, Then did the same for Ember who Broke down in tears the way A babe that doesn''t see its mother Cries out to reach her hand; Our Allison reached out to him, For she could understand The plight of reaching for the grasp Of a long-vanished parent, And led both boys a-floating with her Back to her cage. Apparent Was the enchantment in their eyes As both boys now beheld Her spirit entering her body, A sight unparalleled In all their life, awake or dreaming; And so they waited for her To open up her eyes, awaiting The tell-tale twinkle o''er her Eyelids of sleep that bore her. 3 When Allison roused from her sleep The second time, she said, "You better not have kissed me, boys, Or else you''ll both be dead!" Right then the blushing Leer and Ember Backed off away from her, Edging themselves against the bars When she began to stir, So Ember said, "We never did that! I promise on my life!" And Leer, he added, "Please, don''t kill us," And looked upon her knife. When Allison looked at those boys, Both looking at her blade, She said, "There is no need for killing, So please don''t be afraid," And up she rose upon her feet And bade them to get up, For they had better things to do Than dwell on such a holdup; So Leer and Ember rose and stood, And to their own surprise, They witnessed Allison dispel Her blade before their eyes. "I''ve entered here within a swoon," She said, "so this whole space Must be a dream for dreamers who Wander and lose their place; "You''ve lost yourselves amongst the dead Who''ve wandered here and died; You''ve let those spirits lead you on, So let me be your guide," And here she reached her hands to them, And they both took each hand; She said, "Take courage, both of you, For I know not where we''ll land; "Just know that it''s a falling dream That gets us out of here; Like Alice down the rabbit hole, You''ve nothing left the fear, "Except what you in your own minds Create for your own selves, For you know not that you are gods Amidst mere shades and elves; "In both of you''s a knight at heart That lies asleep, unseen, But come with me, the both of you, And you''ll see what I mean." And so they followed her example And walked towards the brink, The three of them now looking down, And ere their second blink, They all went down the sink! 4 So down and down and down they went In free-fall like three stones, Falling and falling till they landed Inside a field of bones, Where many teens and children there Have died within their sleep, Dying in nightmares manifold In death''s embracing reap. And here they groaned on aching backs And sides and necks and heads, All three of them now waking up From three revolting beds Made from the bones of teens and children That cut them on their landing; Now picking themselves up, they saw A lonely staircase standing Forlorn above their heads like some Sentinel of the grave, When Allison discerned the place, She had another brain wave And said, "We have to keep on moving Away from these odd parts," And here she led them both away With beating heart of hearts Beating with all the dread of death Lurking with subtle creep, For now''s that time of night again When all the world''s asleep, Except for two foul entities A-shambling in the park, Two fiends that Allison had glimpsed But had Leer and Ember mark The horrors they remembered well When running for their lives; But Allison, she said, "Take heart And arm yourselves with knives!" And here she stretched out her own hand And formed her vorpal blade there, So Leer and Ember followed suit And in their fingers laid there Not vorpal knives of steely metal But pistols made to shoot; She turned around and looked at them And said, "Don''t fire en route "Haphazardly at all the shades Within these woody parts, For there are things that can''t be killed With your ballistic arts." And so they walked on through the woods, Two pistoleers and one Girl with her vorpal blade aglow Leading the way when someone Or something up ahead of them Caught all three by surprise: It was the giant centipede To Allison''s dear eyes. She said, "Is that you, Centipede, A-lurking over there?" And so the centipede replied, "There''s danger everywhere, "Dear children! Follow all my kin Away from these odd parts; That godless man I told you of Is trained in ghoulish arts," And with his words, a thousand smaller Centipedes led the way, Emerging from the grounds beneath Their feet; so making headway, The trio followed all these small ones Beyond the wooded grounds Into the open field wherein A thousand cricket-sounds Were chirping tunes that filled their ears, Till all at once, they all Fell silent on the dread approach Of two fiends walking tall! Before the boys ran off, she said, "You stay yourselves and face Your fears! We''re in this for the fight Within this godless place!" The boys looked back at her in horror And saw the worry lines Tracing themselves upon her face At something in the confines Behind them on the pathway there Within the blood moon''s light. "I''ll keep him off as long''s I can," She said, "but you must fight! We all must fight tonight!" 5 Before another word was said, The three took up their stances And eyed their foes with desperate glares Midst desperate circumstances. While Allison kept watch upon The unseen shade behind them, Ember and Leer looked on in horror At their two fiends assigned them, For they had nooses ''round the necks With lolling heads and eyes, With gaping mouths that formed foul grins And breathed out hideous cries; Then those two fiends detached their heads Off of their shoulders bare, And ''round their necks their nooses twined Like chains with balls that glare; The boys'' two shambling fiends took off And charged the trembling group, Swinging their heads over their bodies From nooses in a loop, So Leer and Ember aimed and fired Rounds at the ghastly duo, But when they split in shambling sprints And charged the weary trio, The two boys cursed and turned and ran, Both running in defeat, While Allison, she leaped and rolled And wheeled upon her feet With outstretched arm and hand and blade And clave the fiends in two In the middle of their bodies there, Cutting through bone and sinew, Till both of them fell down like trees Within this silent park, That''s when the third fiend made his move, Charging her in the dark, Lunging with vorpal blade in hand To stab her in the back; Ere Allison had turned around To see the sly attack, Before the third fiend struck his blow And murdered Allison, Both Leer and Ember aimed their guns And shot that shadow-spawn In the middle of his shoulder blades, Whereon he screamed in pain And filed the night with horrid screeches¡ª Such was the bitter strain. So Allison, she wheeled around With blade arrayed for slaughter, And charged him, cutting at the fiend As if she cut through water, But that third fiend just dissipated And filled the night with laughter, Then said, "Whoever fights with monsters Becomes a monster after, "For when you look into th'' abyss, Th'' abyss looks into you! And you, my dear, will turn a monster Before your life is through!" With all their strength to run and turn And aim and shoot now low, The boys now stared at her in awe; Leer said, "We need to know¡ª" "What your name is," Ember continued, "For we have never seen Anyone move and strike like that Outside the TV screen." So just before the sun arose Upon the east horizon, She turned to both of them and said (Before the night was done), "My name is Allison."
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. ¡ªEleonne Moona (from Wattpad)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¡ª 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¡ªslowly¡ªrots: 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¡ªof death¡ª 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¡ªdear 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¡ª . . . 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 ********
Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make! ¡ªBram Stoker, Dracula, Chapter II: Johnathan Harker¡¯s Journal¡ªcontinuedI. 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.