Corner Pub #2 |
Night on Brocken |
PKreturns Member
since 2003-07-21
Posts 362New Orleans, LA |
In the German lands of falling snows There today where no one goes Nestled there the holy village Brocken I myself, a lad of only ten The winds blew cold down the mountain Foretelling news of someone’s coming A savior, a most respected priest From Promised Land, south and east This new pastor, Reverend James, With two silent monks he came Young, dignified, with a gleam in his eye He made all well with a spell of his smile How intently did we listen so To him as gentle as the falling snow To behold with eyes as they glazed And question not what we praised The next four months became unreal Like a thief our souls to steal And not one among us aware Sitting still with same empty stare Those who spoke up soon to die With that lost look in their eyes Looking, but no one sees Lonely town falls to its knees And by the light of the moon Can’t even feel our pending doom In my dreams figures twist my mind Controlling me and distorting time But how we didn’t understand The coldness of his offered hand That hidden something in his smile Wanton darkness and wicked guile This is where I find myself on the Eve Of Christ’s Day to take my leave Warm and comfortable in my bed Restless though, I am led Something draws me to show To look out my frozen window In night’s gloom I see a fire Far away, distant red spire Without thought, nor long the while I make the lonely trek through the lonely mile Through thick snow and ancient trees I make my way to stop and see A huge unearthly fire and the monks Two silent bowing lumps Then, their heads up and stared As mine follows into darkened air Something comes flying down With wings and a foul crown It is James; with daggers for hands Softly into the fire he lands Naked, bestial as he truly was Overwhelmed by awe, into sleep I fell Awakened later from this spell My vision finally unblurred By beholding the demon-bird It is night: below, Brocken starts mass For them, this night is their last I rush fast and blind My enemy is now time For as I make the village square Everyone, the whole town is there With knives all on high Black holes in his golden eyes Then I race headlong down Only to fall, face into the frigid ground His monks see the attack Pin me inches from his wretched back But my fingers have life of their own Reaches out and grabs evil’s cloak And before the knives could fall Down comes cloak exposing all Wings outstretch, to the air they take For everyone the spell begins to break Hands burning, turns to laugh Mouth spills blood of innocent calf Smiles as the flames sear his flesh The pain is still only just fresh Melting his face, screaming in rage Crying out with voices from every age Peeling the skin from his eyes According to plan – watch him die As three mounds of ashes burn What have we learned? |
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© Copyright 2004 PKreturns - All Rights Reserved | |||
Marge Tindal
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
PK~ This is quite the spellbinding read~ *Huglets* ~*Marge*~ ~*When the heart grieves over what it has lost, |
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Joyce Johnson
since 2001-03-10
Posts 9912Washington State |
This left me with all kinds of emotions and pictures in my head. Love, Joyce |
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PKreturns Member
since 2003-07-21
Posts 362New Orleans, LA |
Thanks Marge. What kinds of emotions and pictures Joyce? |
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midnightblues Senior Member
since 2000-07-01
Posts 1597Singapore |
Wow!!! intriguing! i really enjoyed reading this! yay nice Love MiCheLLe If there cannot be equal in affection, then let the one with more be me - midnightblues |
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