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Night On Brocken
| Dark Poetry #1 |
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Night On Brocken |
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PoeticKnight Senior Member
since 2000-01-20
Posts 1144New 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 stares 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 Slowly something comes floating down With wings and topped by 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 un-blurred By beholding the demon-bird It is night: below, Brocken starts mass For them, this night is their last I rush forward fast, and blind My enemy now is 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 his cloak And before the knives could fall Down comes the robes, 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 We see, but have we learned? |
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| © Copyright 2000 J.M. Landry - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
wow...what inspired this??? I think this could go in the Prose or fiction forums...this place it SO huge...I never get to all the forums like Id like too. You have a creative mind!! take care, janet marie ...every moment of every day... your still with me in every way. every poem and song... every rhyme and verse... your still here...like a beautiful curse. your my inspiration, your my fire... your words fill me with poetic desire. Every moment of every day... your still with me in every way. Janet Marie *I miss you baby... I love you, always.* |
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PoeticKnight Senior Member
since 2000-01-20
Posts 1144New Orleans, LA |
Thanks janet. I hope you read this reply, because this poem is sorta the reason i started writing poetry in the first place. It started out as one of my short stories in high school, and a teacher borrowed my only hand written copy! And of course, lost it. So, i quickly wrote it in long poem form to remember it, and fell in love with the brevity of poetry (Me being lazy). So, my short story ideas were put into poems, then the poems became just poems and now, i wish i could go back to writing short stories. Maybe one day. *L* When everything slows down. Thanks again for showing me this forum. |
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jenifeather Junior Member
since 2000-02-21
Posts 31Here |
wow, that was one of the most amazing poems i have read. you are very talented. i would love to read more of your work. Jennifer |
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Jannel Member
since 2000-01-18
Posts 492Muncie, IN, USA |
very nice. incredible storytelling. jannel "I'm just saying that we've mistaken one for thousands of words, and for that mistake I've caused you such pain that I damn that word." -10000 Maniacs "Jezebel" |
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Isis Member Ascendant
since 1999-09-06
Posts 6296Sunny Queensland |
You have a gift for storytelling in the old days I think you would have been a bard. Glad a teacher's forgetfulness inspired/ brought this out in you, so we all can benefit from it. Unreal  May the world hug you today, With it's warmth and love. I pray it whispers a joyful tune in your heart, That tell you there is a friend sitting in another corner of the world, Wishing you well and wishing you love...... ~Isis~ (Goddess - Sovereign of the Spirit) |
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PoeticKnight Senior Member
since 2000-01-20
Posts 1144New Orleans, LA |
Thank You. That is the thing we strive for i guess...to tell a story. I am honored that anybody even read this. Thanks again. |
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