PHQ-Nickname:
Syndel
Halfquake:
Mania
Level:
74
Total kills:
19,884,443
Birthday:
00th 0000
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| Mood: | depressive |
| Type: | Poem |
| Added: | May 28th 2012, 18:56:05 |
| Visits: | 1798 |
| Series: | [ Dreams ] |
| Rating: | Not rated yet. |
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 To write of sleep is but to look,
Where simple grasp is mistook,
And understanding ebbs away,
Into the folly of the grey,
It swirls in pestilent formless shape,
To confuse the mind of the ape,
It shivers and sullys and kindly warps,
A world of explosion from lifeless corpse.
I slept such a dream not long ago,
Where I was lost and things were slow,
And shadows danced behind the grey,
Puppets prancing happily fey,
They were as figures in complex ballet,
A silent, haunting cabaret,
And flashes of teeth could be seen in the view,
Smiles too wide and of earthen hue,
But one stood apart and did not follow suit,
To him there was silence, no tune for the brute,
He stood with hunched shoulders and silently swayed,
Raised up a finger and to my person he bade,
I walked from the center at his command,
Reached out a finger and made for his hand,
But as I grew closer I saw his red skin,
I beheld in my presence the overlord of sin.
The demon before me came clear in my mind,
Large and foreboding, of hellish kind,
But enthralled as I was with a shocked kind of wonder,
He spoke on to me, his voice struck like thunder,
"O' mortal bird in heaven's gaze,
They ask for your loyalty in this life's maze,
They ask for trust and belief in hopeless cause,
And bid you follow all their laws,
And punishment for a sacrilege,
Is branding as the rogue savage,
And that is how I come to you,
Damaged and hurt, but made anew.
My soul was strong enough to stand,
Whilst others fell on holy sand,
I lost my wings and still stood true,
So hold your judgement, I beg of you."
His words were spoken in slippery tongue,
His chest did shake with breath of lung,
His breath was warm and smelled of fire,
But for all his faults I could see no liar.
"Your gods are wrong," he clearly spoke,
"They are lost of good and morally broke,
They ply their folly among the stars,
They play with the fates, and mostly ours.
"But forgive my visage for I must say,
That once I to was of they,
I once roamed the heavenly strata,
But for my soul I could not barter.
"I was banished away to realms unknown,
To take upon a pauper's throne,
But little did the Big Man know,
The lengths to which a life would go.
"I built the hells beneath your Earth,
Hollowed out holes in torment's birth,
But do not mistake these acts of worth,
I seek only to grant the gift of mirth.
"The only evil I did commit,
Was in the command of Him, the holy twit,
He taught neglect and judgement constant,
And quashed those who fought the current,
"He trapped you mortals in a life,
Of tyranny, sadness and too much strife,
When in his power he had the means,
To cure all horror and banish all fiends,
"A single sin is all it takes,
And an unpure soul is not what makes,
His current pantheon of frightened angels,
The rest are just prisoners for my cells,
"But I find a cell is an unfortunate place,
And never shall I trap one with such in-grace,
Instead the sinners are punished fast,
And none of the pain shall ever last.
"My followers are children and women and men,
His are the slaves of sword and of pen,
Mine are the free and the bold and the smart,
His know of no work but of worship and art.
"They tarnish my name in all of your nation,
But what do they know of heavenly station?
Alas I cannot forgive, for that is my task,
But as for the punishment? This I can mask,
"A prick on the finger or pinch on the arm,
To those who are good this is all I dare harm,
For though I am he who is charged with your fate,
I would rather a happy than vengeful state.
"But why tell you, a single soul?
Surely you'd discover that this was my goal,
But only after your soul had been reaped,
And meanwhile it is painful to watch those who've weaped,
"It pains me to see those who are living there,
Who have lost far too much in a life unfair,
So I sought out your skill and your boldness of word,
I sought out the poet. I sought out the bird.
"I ask you spread message to those in much need,
But to not give in to your own simple greed,
For whilst I know you life is pain enough,
I know of your sin and know you are tough.
"A place by my side is guaranteed,
But live to the fullest and your mission, succeed,
Find those who fear death and do reassure,
That I will be waiting, the final cure."
He stopped in his lecture and looked at the ground,
Expecting my question, but dreading the sound.
I took a moment to examine his dreadful frame,
Found kindly aspects to validate his claim.
"I must ask," I said, "and truly I must,
This mission I must take in trust?
You really demand with your ancient breath,
That I become your angel of death?"
He sighed and turned a neck ages old,
"You have understood all you've been told,"
His arms looked tired and face looked scarred,
Beneath the red which his whole body marred,
"Perhaps you never will believe,
But ask yourself if it's crime to read,
A word of different view and perspective,
For perhaps it could help those more selective,
"You need not kill to save a soul,
And murder is not my intended goal,
But seek out those in pain and give them release,
A spiritual hope, that they shall end in peace.
"Go now back to places known,
Spin my words into something grown,
Turn my message to poetry,
Guide those who cannot see,
And when your days have finally ended,
I shall see whether your soul can be mended."
With that the demon disappeared,
His cohort vanished, the grey cloud cleared,
And I awoke within my room,
In the darkness and the gloom.
I thought of my sins which weigh on my spirit,
I thought of the devout, of holy merit.
I thought of Him, and the story of fall,
I thought of Beelzebub. I thought of them all.
And words came to mind as if in a song,
And this is their story, although far too long.
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