A Teller of Tales

A teller of tales
Is only as good
As the worlds she weaves
And she has always woven well,
But the world she weaves best
Is the one those around her
Call real.

Death

Why stay here, child,
And suffer such pain?
Come away with me tonight,
All thy struggles are in vain.
Come with me and we will play
With flowers from springs long gone
Listen to the songs of birds long dust;
I’ll adorn thee with a dead king’s crown.
Wait thee for an angel’s words
To guide thee to the life beyond?
But I am Death, child, ancient and unchanging,
Angels are but newly-forged.
Come now with me, child, come,
Leave thy life and mourning family behind.
Come, we must now this journey begin,
Loosen fast all ties that bind
Thee to this mortal coil.
E’en great Achilles in allegiance bent his knee,
Shall thou now refuse?
Come, child, no judgement awaits thee,
Fear not that thy sins shall be weighed.
All mortals are adjudged the same,
No burden of vices or treasure of virtues
Shall earn thee a better place in Hades’ realm.
My sister Sleep thou follows into dreams,
With the same blind faith, follow me now.
Come into the land of rest, child,
Eternal sleep shall soon smooth thy brow.
Come now, weary not thyself with more struggles.
Come, thy parents eagerly await,
Come, thou shall again be their child.
Come, child, ’tis but a step more to Hades’ gate.

Haunted

A mist covers the swamplands
And makes strange visions appear out of rocks,
A bone-chilling breeze blows tonight;
With gnarled fingers, on windows, the witch-hazel knocks.
The moon tonight, is a ghostly queen -
Robed and regal on her cloudy throne.
In the graveyard, among broken head-stones,
Is heard the masterless dog's howling moan.
Hearest that pattering, as of owl's wings?
Somebody walks with footsteps light -
Or mayhap something, goblin or ghoul,
Fit inhabitant of this dreary night.
Someone's cloaks a-flutter in the wind,
Their robes are caught on hawthorn bushes.
A maiden ‘tis, with countenance pale -
Her raven hair crowned with rushes.
Death peers out of her sallow face
And smiles from her glittering eyes -
Mocking and strange is her unearthly smile
As though in her heart some secret lies.
A secret ‘tis, a full sordid tale,
A mishap she'll confide only in you.
For sure she is, in this short time,
That you are to become her companion true,
Truly, 'tis a tale of wondrous sorrows -
Told, for she trusts you above all else.
Nay she will even lead you to the place
Where unfolded the events that now she tells.
Bewitching, befuddling, enchanting is her voice-
As sweet and silver as of the morning lark.
So enthralling is her story of terror,
You'll ne'er know when you entered places dark.
And now she's almost ended the story of her life -
"Then they drove through my heart with a stave"
She whispers, and as you try to cling to reason,
Your eyes alight on an ancient, open grave.
And before the night is done, in a nearby village
Shall arrive a dusty, travel-worn lass -
Her eyes glittering, her fair face worn;
Her plait a lovely raven mass.

Queen of Night

Stealthy and silent as a stalking beast
Night comes on swooping falcon wings -
About the pale queen's sable cloak
A faint perfume of jessamine flowers clings.
Her black velvet gown is diamond-set,
Her girdle with star-dust sewn;
Her footsteps leave no earthy mark,
Her trail is with priceless gems strewn.
Her bracelets are made of ebony roses,
Adamantine fires play in her dark eyes;
Her silver-braided raven locks,
In their streaming masses darken the skies.
Round her ivory neck, a silver asp
Its gleaming coils has beguilingly thrown.
At her behest, this deadly serpent,
Many a soul the path to hell has shown.
Behind her march armoured guards,
Brandishing daggers and burnished shields -
Black eyes flashing with infernal fires,
Pale, black-hearted, blood-sucking fiends.
By her side walks a gigantic beast,
Its huge paws ripping the ground;
Enslaved by Diana's dreary thrall,
Human-souled bloodthirsty hound.
Plague and Death, like humble slaves
To her dreadful throne their service devote,
Among Hell's most fearsome creatures,
Queen Devilna holds her nightly court.

Immortal

The sky is tinted a purplish grey -
Witness to the sun's last dying gasp.
Purple slowly to charcoal turns,
The world's now in dread Night's grasp.
Shadows lengthen, and darken their hue,
A giant hand extinguishes the stars,
The darkness is alive with unnamed horrors,
The ragged wind night's silence mars.
Something sinister prowls the moors,
In the chill breeze his whistle sounds -
Hideous bats he uses as falcons,
Ravenous wolves are his hunting hounds,
His cape swishes among gorse bushes,
His boots leave no marks in the heather.
What hunter is this, mortal or demon,
That dares be out in such cruel weather?
Bloodshot and black are his fathomless eyes
His countenance pale and bloodless -
Immeasurably ancient, yet eternally young,
Time and age no power over him possess.
Darker than darkest night, smoother than silk
A rich raven mane to his shoulders falls;
Awakened by his silent, weightless steps
In airy whispers to him the night calls.
Against his skin, his bloodstained lips
Are like a scarlet rose on driven snow,
Beneath them, his jagged white fangs
Sharp, predatory cruelty show.
On the neck, hidden by hair and collar
By two puncture marks his skin is blemished;
Their dark powers have kept him here
Long after the deaths of all he has cherished.
Left behind, he walks his solitary path -
Neither wishing, nor being wished well.
What pleasure 'twould be to perish,
E'en when condemned to eternal hell!
Not so to be, never so to be,
Damned he is to roam in darkest night -
Damned to be alone; alive and young,
Damned to ne'er see daylight.

Moonstruck

Tonight the moon is a perfect orb,
A silvery gem on Heaven's cloak.
Tonight a fearful change on this earth
Shall arrive at midnight's stroke.
Diana's dread order her bonded slaves
Must this dreary night reluctantly obey -
Poor damned souls, by Phoebe's magic
From daily humdrum lives drawn away.
Human guise they are now to shed,
Hidden in darkness, obscured from sight -
Bodies of fearsome deadly predators,
Human souls in captive plight.
No more power have reason and love
Against this black spell on their souls laid,
Than a fragile net of twine
Could wield against a steel blade.
All night in hunger for human flesh,
They shall stealthily stalk and prowl -
In excruciating misery greeting
Their cruel mistress with moaning howl.
When great Phoebus' golden sceptre
Topples his sister's silver throne
Then are found these beasts of night,
Their animal selves to have outgrown.
A broken man, wounded and bleeding ,
In a sun-dappled forest glade -
Praying with all his soul and hoping
That the night saw no more monsters made.

Night

Darkness like a woven tapestry black,
Wrapping the world on a new-moon night
Pierced by a single brave stab,
Above the horizon, of a single star's light.
Atop a mountain, a gigantic bulk
Of deeper black, against a sable sky,
Among trees with shadowed trunks,
Dream-like bats on shadowy wings go by.
Shadows lurk in the darkest corners
Of a dark, bewitched forest glade -
Shadows with claws and fangs and fur,
Whose movements disturb not a single blade.
Moss-hung branches, in oaken groves,
Meet velvet branches on antlered heads.
For fear of stag's thundering hooves,
Many a forest patriarch it's verdant robe sheds.
Large eyes peer out of leafy retreats -
Awake, alert, in ghostly vision.
Twoo-whit, twoo-whoo - the ghastly shriek
Puts all creatures to confusion.
Creatures all of hideous darkness,
Inhabiting a new-moon night –
Predators and prey of a forest primeval,
Disappearing at dawns first light.