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when i was just an irresponsible fetus

 

A King's Message

 

Aye the wolf speaks this night the chill tingling my bones, 

My travels take me through the darkness so far from the land that I call home. 

Yet travel I must upon this traitorous trail 

Where the night's visage a scene escaped from the netherworld of hell 

 

Darkened shadows terrifying in the creeping fog, 

Eerily cast oh aye this night would be forever long. 

But no help, no quarter, no mercy would come, 

Indeed I could find myself scavenging, hiding from the morning sun. 

 

It would not do for the Scravens to catch up with me too soon, 

And perhaps in answer sparkling misty dew. 

I could not fault the beauty a treat here rarely seen, 

But this night was necessary; I carried a message for my king. 

 

Only once had I seen him, and then only from afar, 

In a coach and six he was riding the window slightly ajar 

He had come most quickly hastily passing through, 

Only few could boast of this sight, very, very few. 

 

A gust of wind swirling savagely twisting trees uprooted before my eyes, 

And a darkness befell the shadows, releasing the owls screeching cries. 

I had no lantern for this task I overtook, 

Only thing I had was a silver chain, my clothes, and a thick sealed book.

 

My skirt of sackcloth clung from the gust then settled between my thighs, 

Yet I held tightly the book lest it rode the wind in flight. 

It meant not the peril, the dangers that I was sure to face, 

This mission was mine alone I could not be replaced. 

 

And the wolf once alone now joined by others they're howling in the night,

Lent to the feel that things were , not quiet right. 

Knowing their closeness and edging ever near, 

The moistness in my eyes told of an unshed tear. 

 

Yet I carried on knowing that I must, 

Carrying documents so old and secret covered heavily by a film of dust. 

It did not do me to wonder of this book I held in my hands, 

I did what they told me, following their dictates and their demands. 

 

A creaking behind me, a sway in the breeze followed by a loud crack, 

A huge limb released from a massive oak tree just inches from my back. 

A heartbeat behind, or perhaps twas a jump ahead, 

Taking deep breaths for it could have struck me dead. 

 

Slow now, steady I cautioned myself, to calm, 

Tis much impatience and fidgeting that held to fears alarm. 

Only a few steps more I had moved the first drops fell upon the dew, 

A slight rain no, no it was much too soon. 

 

I should find shelter; the book should be protected at all cost, 

Would not take but one mistake and a kingdom would be lost. 

Lady luck smiled through the torrential downpour 

For slipping through my rain shed tears I spied a garden door. 

 

Warily I approached for I knew not what lay beyond, 

Would that there be human, or a monster that torture the young preyed upon. 

High I held my head one hand protecting the sacred book, the other grasping the handle to turn, 

No, no, go back, turn back I secretly yearned. 

 

Caution I tried so hard it would be much to my benefit, 

Slowly opened I peeked inside and spied a candle already lit. 

I saw no one, not a soul was near or around, 

Peace total quietness only the rains intense sound. 

 

Dark, yet light, the too seemed to forever blend, 

On and on a desolate scene never having an end. 

Quiet, too quite but then broken by thunders roar, 

And the winds revenge as it slammed shut the gardens door. 

 

Forward I eased ever so softly lest I roused a foe,

Not knowing what lay ahead or the direction I should go.

Then I was spiraling ever downward, spinning like a child’s top,

Holding tightly to the book praying that I should soon stop.

 

No sign of a hole did I see yet I knew of no other explanation,

Ah but what then would account for this new prickly sensation?

My heart thundered loudly the echo captured by my ears,

Was a deadly wail, the root of all evil, the existence of all my fears.

 

Aye stop my tumble, nay do not, oh what confusion fought within,

But the choice was not mine. With a bone shattering thud it came to an end.

The book, the book, I had held it so tightly before,

Find it I must for a kingdom would be lost and blood would pour.

 

Eyes of fire flashed before me; was a creature from beyond death,

So close to me it was that I could feel its rancid breath..

A fearfulness took hold me, not one, nor two, but more, lots more,

And run I could not, for I had fallen through the earth’s core.

 

A boulder held fast before me and I knew that I must get behind,

An eerie wail, then another and another, they were invading my mind.

I shook my head furiously I must dispel their thoughts,

Somehow they knew I was here but I knowing I must not be caught

 

And I began to crawl with much pain given to me from the fall,

Ah surely there were broken bones but my heart said make no sound at all.

This pain was nothing compared to their plans for me for now I knew,

I failed. The book was in their hands and now they had me too.

 

A heart wrenching scream passed over my lips as skeletal fingers clawed my skin,

Eyes all around shot their fiery flame and with rotting flesh I had to contend

I felt I was being ripped apart, piece by piece, limb by limb and oh such pain,

Knowing I must escape their clutches but I could not let the book remain.

 

I feel the flames as my soul is taken and I hear the echo of its retreat

I scream, Never have I felt this ache, never such intense heat.

And the burn, the feel can never be described, for the pain is much to real,

But as my soul distanced itself from me I no longer hurt , I ceased to feel.

 

I had now become one of them and I forgot my purpose

No longer was my mind on the book, my life or the earths surface.

Just a mindless mass of human flesh joining the Keepers lost souls,

Yearning for nothing no dreams, no hopes, nor any other goals.

 

It doesn’t matter anymore, nothing does and I don’t see why it should,

Without a heart, without a soul, there is no life nor anything good.

What avenue of escape is the right choice for me? Perhaps there is none.

If there is its an unknown shadow And my miserable existence has only begun.

 

Lightning crashed thunder roared and inside the earth we shook,

A raging wind blew ancient dust and at my feet fell a book.

Lifelessly my gaze stared, but before I could kick it away,

A deep voice echoed the darkness and I left it where it lay.

 

“This is my world, my darkness, in this hell you do not belong,

Pick up that which you brought with you, remember your life and be gone.”

I shook my head to clear it as a fierce pain clawed my chest,

As I picked up the book it all came back, my life, my hope, my quest.

 

Captured in a savage whirlwind I was transported above ground,

I was floating now and with a gentle breeze I was finally set down.

The book I held tightly, and I inhaled a very deep breath,

So fresh the smell, so very different from the underworlds death.

 

I must hurry now for I had no inkling of time that had passed,

Instinct told me though that I had to make it fast.

My fear was no longer the Scravens but the Keeper of time lost,

I must get this book to the king no matter what the cost.

 

The wolves were gathering now, aye their howl was growing near,

My pace picked up, looking left and right, I felt an uncontrollable fear.

“Nooo,” I cried , “I’ve come to far and been through much,“ but to late,

They were upon me as I neared the castles gate.

 

I was surrounded I could not move forward nor reverse

From the pages of the book flowed words to lift the wolves curse.

At one time a knight he had been the best in all the land,

A curse was placed upon him by the witch of the Scravens renegade band.

 

Then all the wolves stood tall, his men that fought by his side,

Each bowed before me, I’d never felt such selfish pride.

Inside the castle the king honored me with much silver and gold,

For the safety of the book and a story never told.

 

The book was full of curses, spells, and many evil deeds,

It spoke of kingdoms, and lives lost , through murder and greed.

In his possession the book would be safe, and no one would ever know,

That his kingdom had almost been lost by the ill winds blow.

 

“Callie, oh Callie, do wake up the king is coming through,”

“Why I thought you would be excited,” I smiled to myself, she hadn’t a clue.

I had met the king personally my riches hidden so well,

And someday I would use them but for now it’s a tale I cannot tell.

 

I never knew Master wolves name but he winked as he rode by

Then came the king in his carriage and I let out a deep sigh.

I had been on a quest, almost lost my live, and journeyed through hell,

But the sad thing was, there wasn’t a soul I could tell.

 

 

 

 

 

I'm going to ask myself
the hardest question ever
who the f**k am I?
Thinking
thinking
still thinking.

How am I supposed to answer
this question is the only
answer I have
I can't answer it
it's a stupid question.

Can anybody answer this
eternal question of who
they are
who they really are
not who we are but
who you are
you, yourself.

There is no true answer
to who you are
or who I am
I have no bloody idea
who I am
and I don't really care
to find out.

So, enough with this
eternal enigma that
I've presented myself with
on this very hot and sticky
night
I'm going to go to the fridge
grab myself a nice
cold beer and
get so drunk that when I
wake up I will have
forgotten everything
from today.

The question will have disappeared
into my subconscious and
I can move on forward
sill wondering what the
s**t happened last
night.

 

 

...........

 

 

Writing opens doors unseen,

Analogies hidden, what do they mean?

Stoked with gentleness sublime,

Release so many jewels of time,

Underneath unspoken words,

So many things go left unheard,

Life a mystery, within is a poet,

Dare to write so you can know it!!

 

Inspired by Poetic_Eyes

http://www.postpoems.org/authors/poetic_eyes/poem/962467

 

 

 

© 2013

 

 

.......................

Alhazred was born in Yemen,

Traveling in the known world;

Amassing lore and legend,

And the tales of the fiends.

 

A writer and a poet,

He was educated much.

Geometry, algebra, Alchemy

And magickal incantations' need.

 

From the cup of occult knowledge

He drank deep...

Driving a normal person

To madness or beyond.

 

Alhazred was once a normal man,

With desires like we all can.

He was Arab by birth,

With a pale skin in rebirth.

Being labeled the mad,

As he was once a dad.

But had to eat his child,

By the King of the Palace's might.

 

He wrote down the Necronomicon,

In more than one song...

The obscure, the forgotten,

The suppressed, the rotten.

Never meant to be read;

It causes insanity with speed.

Not interpreted rationally,

The thoughts cause a rally.

 

Alhazred was insane,

By the lore he learned within.

But he wrote clear,

With many a tear.

 

The state of the Universe,

In reality suspense;

Plaything of mad gods at best,

Sewer of evil in the north, south, east, west.

 

Humans dare not dream of this,

For their peaceful lives they cannot miss.

A warning and guide this book is,

And by the Djinns you do wish.

 

Alhazred died, not a mystery,

It is written in history.

In the marketplace,

He was erased.

By the Demon from beyond,

Who wanted him gone.

Blood upon the sand,

There he was banned.

In broad daylight,

With many a sight.

 

He meddled with evil things,

With beings with wings.

He is now dead,

After he bled...

There was once a girl,

born with wings.

who flew with falcons,

and oversaw all things.

This beautiful maiden,

with hair like golden silk.

lips like that of plush peaches,

and skin like a glass of milk.

Her wings shone white,

against the sky.

And to watch this girl soar,

could make grown men cry.

She only wore white,

the sheerest of gowns.

Her feet slightly dirty,

a light shade of brown.

She looked like an angel,

Or a Goddess maybe.

Who could dart past a plane,

quicker than the can see.

She Who Was Born With Wings,

was a legend among men.

Who sang them songs of old,

and laughed among them.

However alas she couldn't set,

her feet upon the ground.

For if she did her wings would implode,

without a single sound.

So she was forced to fly alone,

for 20 years in days.

Until she was blessed with a mate.

At least thats what they say.

His wings were black as night,

and turned blue when she was near.

And every night above your head,

their love song you could hear.

These two beautiful beings,

cursed as they were to forever fly.

Were happier than any on the ground,

or those within the sky.

They wished their children,

not to have the same.

To be able to walk among men,

and indulge in child's games.

So when children came,

they were laid on roofs.

Thought to be a an orphan,

which had a ring of truth.

But alas the golden winged girl,

grew old and died with her mate.

But their legend is still spread wide,

up until this very date.

And though we may not believe,

or ponder at such things.

There are still those solemn few,

who dream of She Who Was Born With Wings.

If I said I knew what I was doing I’d be lying, because maybe sanity is overrated or maybe I was interrupted from life from the very second I was conceived in my mother’s womb. I driving in the hour of twilight and the affairs I had along the way were my only pure daylight. The men, they were all nothing until I met him; quiet, yes. But so enigmatic, prismatic, and most of all charismatic; how cliché: a story about a boy who loved a boy with his whole time-lost heart.

I had always gotten the feeling that if I had to choose between the arcane men and myself death would seem much more fitting than a world desolate of mystery.