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Details | Mythology Poem | |

Endymion,Lover Of The Moon

On summer hills I watched you I know you watched me too Every night you waited for me Every night I came to you From shallow oceans I have risen On silver chariots traveled high Crossed everlasting spaces which filled your empty sky Soothing manna showered your lips from the radiance of my light Crazy love I poured in your heart on each lone and serene night Humble shepherd boy Endymion You haven't chosen death,nor life In eternal sleep you've slumbered and made of me your wife You must have been a poet with a will to live our dream with a want to preserve passion for the last abiding crescent of the evanescent moon Selene.
Inspired by the Greek myth of Selene,goddess of the moon and Endymion and by beautiful poetry.

Details | Mythology Poem | |

Beauty floats

Floating beauty, she glides across the lake.
Her gown flutters in the wind with each stride.
It feels like a dream but I am awake.
This vision comes to me on gentle tide.

I take her hand as she steps on the shore.
She says, "I'm yours to do with as you please."
"What you dream of, I can promise much more!"
Her gown drops and blows away on the breeze.

Gentle curves beckon for me to explore.
Her skin pale white welcomes lustful caress.
I give and give and still she begs for more!
Power beyond my own I must confess.

For I am nothing but a mortal man!
Power flowing from a secret hot place.
To gain human seed was part of her plan.
Looking content she leaves without a trace.

For Georgio's Iambic verse contest.
I am not well experienced with this form but thought I would try.
Written Sept, 29th 2014 by Richard lamoureux.

 

Details | Mythology Poem | |

Thracian Eve


Thracian Eve 

Subsequent the fog walls act
(dance solitaire of its white sway)
the sovereign of woods display 
- adaxial his life protract. 

Amidst the woods and in the haze 
(diffused in air's the deep green light)
advertent nymph in veiling white 
- and ancient Thracian spirits' phase. 

An aisling she appeared and ere 
her solitude his stare absorbed 
she spelled his name - a song birds curbed 
- betrothal mountains' claim of e'er. 

A melody of singing aves 
upon the slopes where lantern-moons 
interconnected with the tunes, 
- aloneness of her festal Eves. 

Belike beams floated on air streams 
the Gods invited while fog's soars 
agremones clothe ancient wars 
entwined with Strymon's seaward themes. 

Aberdevines on Thracian wold 
and nightingales' expanded song 
the mountain mists embrace erelong 
- abthane the temples eyes behold. 

Her flight has reached the ether's heights 
steep slopes that mortals followed thence,
amid the thymes their lives commence,
when nightingales invite the nights.

© 05-24-2013, G. Venetopoulos
(Iambic tetrameter)


G.V.


Details | Mythology Poem | |

TENTACLES

In the heart of the blackest abyss, down, 
Down, in fathoms deep crypt, where light
Does not penetrate, and the structured protective hauls,
Of men, are crushed beneath pressures massive
Weight, of the oceans deepest depth.
This is truly inner spaces aquatic zone of the
Unknown, a realm of stilled silence frozen
In the icy currents of the barren straights.
Where prehistoric giants dwell, amongst the
Tidal flow, ambush predators, forgotten beasts,
From long ago, living krakens whom devour
All life, hidden within their dark domain.
In Poseidon's mighty anger, the waves answer,
To his fists of fury, hurricanes wrath of vengeance,
Gives birth to the perfect storms rage, 
Vessels rise and than fall in the tidal surging
Waters.
Nay do the sailors cry out to the Lord God on high, 
For redemption's salvation, but the sacrificial altars must
Be appeased, by flesh and bloods sacred offerings.
Summons does the mighty lord of the seven seas,
To release the last of the ancient Leviathans.
Two thousand hands, of a thousand dead men,
Heave and pull at the tethering heavy chains,
To this devil of the depths cage.
From within interments vaulted keep,
Captivities living spawn from hell, is 
Unshackled and released, to reek havocs
Devastation above.
An aquatic spider, a maritime widow maker,
Flexing and in-flexing, its body’s motions,
Towards the surface, in pulsations rhythmic
Orchestrations, the gray giant is ready to strike,
With its killing arms extended wide, to grapple
At its unprotected prey, to engorge itself with
All living matter that it surveys, within its icy reach.
As bubbles shoot upwards breaking the waters
Surface, suction cups and talon claws are drawn
Outwards, aligning his eight legged tentacles of bone
Crushing death, behold the Giant Squid, instrument of
Lethal torture, a living killing machine from the fathoms 
Deepest depths.
For it is the beast, the true essence of evil
Incarnate, and none survive its destructive wrath.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Details | Mythology Poem | |

Blessed Outcomes

Decades of mystic dreamers have worn the path
trod across the leys, coupling pairs within Stonehenge.
Beneath the Wiltshire skies cornflower blue; they lust,
lotus-eaters, loose-limbed, seeking a blessed outcome.
With longing strides-- they reach, climbing earthen berms 
to add their lovers song to move with the cycles.
Some take the blessed day, others wait the pearly moon.
See her so fairy fair dressed in naught but moonlight?
Watch his black-haired beast rise once encircled by her arms.
Back pressed against the dolmens, her heels wreath his waist 
as virgin blood runs red like the holly berries
to feed the holy earth, she'll bear his child; she trusts.  

Details | Mythology Poem | |

Where lilies grow

 Zephyrus, the god of the wind from the west
 Gently blows where the lily grows
 He is springtimes's welcome guest

 In early summer he whispers to the rose
 As she sways in his warm caress
 He gently blows where the lily  grows

   The winds of *Notus  may give her stress
 For he brings the summer storms
 But she'll  sway in Zephyrus's  warm  caress

 The winds of  *Boreas are never warm
 He brings the cold winds of winter
 While Notus brings the summer storms

 Icicles on window sills begin to splinter
 As the winds of Boreas make us shiver
 He brings the cold winds of winter

 His icy breath is upon the rivers
 With gusts that never seem to  rest 
 The winds of Boreas make us shiver
 But Zephyrus is sprigtime's welcome guest
                                ----  
   12/11/2014

 *Notus -  The Greek  god of the south wind
  *Boreas -  The Greek   god of the North wind and the bringer of winter
                                             ----
 Source - Wikipedia

 
 
 

 

 

Details | Mythology Poem | |

Nyx

Nyx - Ode -

Strophe:

The shadows know the
scent of clove
as Nyx devolves her
orphic code;
her odes address the
stars above,
inviting so, the
Morpheus' bode.

Her darkness strings
the scenic
stillness,
her laughter waves
inside the ether,
small hours submit
erotic bleakness,
advancing 'mid the
sage and heather.

The creatures glance
- with eyes of amber
beneath the blinking
starry flare,
while Nyx, the
infinite advancer,
inflicts her
thralldom and
affair.

Antistrophe:

The blanching moon,
in ventured glory,
embraced by Erebus
at night,
unfolds her mane of
black graphite,
distributing her
daunting dowry.

She meekly bids to
worlds of blooms,
the mortals on the
breezes' breath,
bestowing grand the
kiss of death,
with fates to weave
the orchard looms.

Epode:

Suggesting darkened
deeds and dismal,
with sovereignty she
guides - abysmal,
the chanted souls to
follow thence,
her clouded callings
consequence.

© G. Venetopoulos,
26-03-2014 - (date
the poem was
revised)
© G. Venetopoulos,
10-03-2012 
(Iambic Ode)
___

Nyx = Night

Paintings of Nyx:
http://tinyurl.com/67gs9u

http://tinyurl.com/ndvfvbw

The story on
Wikipedia:
{
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nyx
Nyx ("Night" in
Greek) – Roman (in
Latin): Nox – is the
Greek goddess (or
personification) of
the night. A shadowy
figure, Nyx stood at
or near the
beginning of
creation, and was
the mother of other
personified deities
such as Hypnos
(Sleep) and Thanatos
(Death). Her
appearances are
sparse in surviving
mythology, but
reveal her as a
figure of
exceptional power
and beauty. She is
found in the shadows
of the world and
only ever seen in
glimpses. }

Details | Mythology Poem | |

Atlantis

A collaboration with Linda (Poet Destroyer)


Atlantis


Can't be re-written by the Gods
The land and sands of time
Destroyed by the fire of Poseidon's curse
Atlantis swallowed by: Earth

In one day and one night
Peaceful existence met its end
Built on a volcano, now surrounded by ancient rippled tears
Lava stripped apart the rich and glorious empire
Enriched by engineers and architects whom loved power more than the Gods
Forgotten souls, sheltered by a watery grave
History withheld from shallow sunken memories
Western sky's hide the truth, a vision from the Pillars of Hercules
"An island situated in front of the Strait of Gibraltar"
Ghostly ruins wait to rise above the Mediterranean and Atlantic waves
A magical land held down by the hands of death,

Atlantis lost city walls...a secret hidden by mermaids
Partially buried, beneath the ocean floor it lies
The largest sunken treasure never to be found
Magnificent pillars of an imperial palace still stand
Somewhere hidden under ancient sand
Some are leaning against turrets, that toppled after the impact
Nothing human will ever inhabit these walls
No feet will ever touch these staircases, again
Only an eerie silence now resides here, with the blue-green waters
Seaweed grows along it's outer walls, like ivy on a trellis.
Obscuring it even further from the human eye.

Other ocean tides will never compare
Tantalizing blend of fantasy and mystery
Stone walls covered with precious gems
...Listen to Plato's voice...
"Look close, look close, into the sea!"
Through the light and Pillars of Hercules
Some where out there buried in the vast
Atlantis the Paradise

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Linda, I just wanted to say thank you for allowing me to write this awesome poem
with you. I truly appreciate all of the support that you have given me since I have been here. It is sad to see such a talented poet leaving the Soup. 
You are one of my favorites, and I will miss you very, very much, Linda.   
Always & Forever, Kelly

Details | Mythology Poem | |

Come Away With Me

Come away with me to the Island of Avalon Where the sun has brazenly shone And the holiest earth has shared a quality light Than none can compare except our bounding hearts Take my hand dear love and follow Where magic and enchantment we’ll swallow And taste the wine of Gods and Goddesses alike Then experience first hand the flowers of medieval art You will be my Arthur and I you’re Guinevere Hand in hand, we’ll climb up without fear We shall bridge the world of nature and spirit The Mystic’s way, come away with me in quiet Let us retrieve the infinitesimal ways of Descartes I will bloom on your palm like a blushing Rose Make love to you with a million shapes n’ prose I will share my Kaleidoscope in places most inert Come away with me to the Island of Avalon Where love thus resides in deep and in shallow. October 25, 2014 For Contest:

Details | Mythology Poem | |

Athena's Companion

Phantom of wisdom in stealth of night;
mysteries of darkness revealed by your sight.

Appearing much older than your earthly years;
an ageless soul with no death to fear.

Athena's companion, with knowledge to share.
Secrets of the gods and immortals you bear.

Kept hidden from light, the ancient truths;
powers of the universe and fountains of youth.

Silent and deep as winters hard snow,
divulging not, till we're deemed fit to know.

Her crow, the secret of omnipotence did tell.
Jealous gods swallowed Atlantis with ocean swells.

Tiring of him, wanting the perfect fowl,
she chose you, the wise old owl.




Contest:My last contest:
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Contest: Night Owl
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler



Details | Mythology Poem | |

The Gods of Winds

A warring god of wind storms and lightening,
Rudra, rough looking, well built, braided hair
Golden in color, of firm limbs widening
With streaks of lightening and fearful blares
Making nervous with fear all the beings.
But caters medicines to the world with care
The wind God is the breath bringer to all
Perfumes, caresses and senses at his call.

Rudra sired his wife Deeti with a son
Deeti vowed to keep him in her womb for more years
Letting the child be more and more brawny one.
Indra, the chief deity of heaven, out of fear,
Entered her womb and chopped him with passion
But pieces so strong reformed into numbers. 
They were named as Maruts, varied Gods of wind
Who lash the world from end to end with great dins.

They are progeny of Rudra, the bulls of heaven,
Radiant in serried rank free from spots and stains
Who drench the earth with heavy rains uneven.
No one know from where they take shape and rain
Spreading forth darkness during the day time even.
Bring health and wealth in noisy way, but veterans.
*"The winds of God’s grace are always blowing
It is left to us how to set the sails flowing."

                           +++
*Rudra, Maruts and Deeti are characters in Hindu Mythology*
* Inspired by a quote
December 21, 2014
Third Place win
Form: Ottava Rima - Rhyme Scheme abababcc, dededeff, ghghghii
Sources : Wikipedia - hinduwebsites

Details | Mythology Poem | |

The Unicorn

The unicorn horse, 
With a horn on its head, 
Is just a mythical animal
who runs in the forest, 
The unicorn myth, 
shall always live on.
A legendary horse, 
next to legendary man.
But through times of greatness, 
the myth lives on.
While grazing the grasses.
and roaming the lands.
The unicorn's exsistence, 
extraordinarily lives on.
A shimmer of hope, 
he has brought to the masses.
a symbol of purity and grace, 
throughout the Middle Ages, 
The Renaissance horse
has written the pages. 
The Unicorn's horn, 
was used for defenses, 
The Unicorn's legs
could jump many fences, 
Across the lands, 
and down to the sea.
The Unicorn's exsistence, 
was as rare as can be.
Strong as an Ox, 
he could never be captured.
By the grasp of the virgin, 
the horse could not flee.
The Virgin Mary herself, 
would not let the horse free..


Unicorn Poetry by Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2014.All Rights Reserved.

Details | Mythology Poem | |

Winds Obey


tale from old Slavic god idol worshipped sage and protector season’s spirit winds obey chiming toll gusts from gods stab with blades of potent breath freezing the tundra and stripping oaks till summer’s warm air wafts winds rage on in winter born from the sea called by Stribog’s horn warrior’s songs command his grandsons blow! *source: Wikipedia and pagan-soul.blogspot For Shadow's Gods of Winds Contest, 12/17/14

Details | Mythology Poem | |

Mythical pest

My parents complain of a mythical pest,

Infesting our house since the 7th of July,

Devouring the snacks, desserts,

delicacies and everything hot, spicy or sweet,

Determined to find the beast,

Fattened with food meant for me.

with a magic wand and on a broom to hunt

set out may it be a lachupakabra or a lepricorn,

Scary or naughty and anything the creature might wield

ready with a device from my dad given to me with a grin

the device, the compass, the guide to the beast

was a mirror reflecting its scaled skin scarlet red

staring at me with cat like blue eye

fierce and mighty.

Not a pest but is a mythical beast

Omega and almighty! It was me

Perplexed, gave up the hunt.

now feasting on poisonously, maliciously, dangerously

in sugary syrup gulab jamuns soaking.

Details | Mythology Poem | |

On The Wind

 I recall the vile pun
 The woeful scream, the solemn bribe
 The nagging prayer, the foreign tongue
 The grave and liquid cry

 She gathered beasts, she beckoned blight
 A splendid bane between her stammers
 And in the panic, an endless night
 Enticing in its glamour

 She had a flair for cryptic verse
 The fabled hag's fatal charm
 For want of blessings she swore a curse
 A well-rehearsed spell of harm

 She took an oath, destroyed a star
 Unleashed a secret from below
 And in an instant from afar
 Brought forth a plague from long ago

 Written by © Raven Drake

Details | Mythology Poem | |

The Hollow

 I am the hope inside
 That feeds on tide and wind
 As ocean shores abide
 A storm's subsiding din 

 I am the joy that died
 Before the world took wing
 Where cold and dark things hide
 Beneath a cheerful grin

 I am the vacant eye
 The black and gaping stare 
 The vain and cunning lie
 That only truth can bear 

 Where raging hearts surrender
 I drop anchor there
 As dying embers stir
 And faith invokes despair

 Written by © Raven Drake

Details | Mythology Poem | |

A Presence in the Forest

Somewhere in an old-growth forest,
a woman smoothly moves amidst
shadows of the pines and hardwoods.
Her mossy gown is verdant green,
her hair twinkles with mica and
her soul, deep as a midnight sky,
with remote star clusters beaming.
She tends the ruins of an ancient inn
and a bed of ferns and roses.
Many a nomad, passing through,
is revived by her grace and goodness.
Though we can't lay hands on her,
she wanders free within our grasp,
For the ancient inn beguiles us still
in the labyrinths of our minds.

Details | Mythology Poem | |

There is a place

There is a place you can go that is full of only love and Warmth .
you will be surrounded by a light that shines from the Heavens ,
Sprinkles of Silver and Gold. 

This place is filled with brilliant colors of Purple , vibrant Gold, all colors.
not one Color is less significant then another ,
for every color is equal here .

This place is surrounded by the beauty of different Flowers.
All flowers have significance here . No one Flower is better then another .
All Flowers are equal here .

It is important you know , you can cry here , and should cry as often as needed .
For  the tears will cleanse your Soul and give the Flowers water to grow.
No  one Tear is insignificant here , every tear has value and not one is better then another .

 money holds no value ,  Where you live , what you own,  has no significance here .

You will be surrounded by a beautiful light that shines from the Heavens .
A shining warm light will encircle you and allow nothing to hurt you . 
Hate will be shed at the door light a old jacket of no use. 

There is a place of beauty and  Worth.
This place will not be found on Earth .
It is a place where no one person is better then another .

Details | Mythology Poem | |

Daphne

Daphne

The master of the light scopes on the brae,
bequeathing her the dusk that sweeps the fields,
his manly thoroughness and thought's cache,
in front of her transmitting aura yields,
while dark befalls around her form and shields;
whatever poised the shades' outlines as real
became Nyx' pass, became the fog's slack seal.

Her thoughts metamorphose, so e'er unplanned
to skyward borders where the maiden's prayers
amid apocryphal of aisles expand,
and winding they disperse, dew forlorn heirs;
the flutter of the blackbird drives her tears 
and beatific perfect form that fades -
domain of conquered arbor woods and glades.

For Gaia's daughter begs to be transformed,
her perfect structure turns to laurel bole,
her splendid mane to foliage and adorned
the woods shall bear her innocence of soul; 
the Nymph persists upon her vestal role,
cantabile his harp and sunshine beams,
forever meet the spieling of her dreams.

© 02-01-2014, G. Venetopoulos
(Rhyme Royal)

Daphne was a Nymph of the streams, Apollo's beloved.
Please, read the "about the poem" details...
G.V.


Details | Mythology Poem | |

UFO's Believe It or Not

U nderstandably pleasing everyone is not possible. She wrings her hands
f or even under the best of circumstances, those who wish to take
o ffensive will, ranting and raving, howling at the moon, arse-kissing 
A ny plastic image stuck to a dash-board, paying the piper.
r eally, is it any wonder hellicopter head lights are taken for 
e rrant space ships, even Ezekiel saw a flying wheel
S uspended within a wheel, and we all know, the Bible is the word
o f God. Are you going to argue with that
R easoning? really? like well, just because Leary was on acid
e ven Hindi yogis saw levitating laghimas
a nyway, she says wringing her hands
l believe in them!

Details | Mythology Poem | |

From 'Ancient Greece'

Love of truth
the very light of Greece
A peninsula thrust out
like a bony hand,
‘God-tormented Greece,’
Zeus exclaimed, 
“I shall give man ‘an evil,’ as the price of fire:
They will clasp destruction with laughter of desire.”

The Gods live on-even though obscure.
Fate rules them too, as Zeus learns
the heroes must die; and the greater
the heroism the earlier the death.

Greece being, itself so divided
between the rational and irrational,
between logic and instinct,
between the scientific and the magical,
between the state of self possession
and that of being possessed,
 and one can continue……
between symmetry and diversity,
between the recognition of limits
and the pursuit of the limitless,
between restraint and vaulting ambitions,
or hubris, Pythagoras in all his wisdom
could achieve no resolution or harmonia.

Of all these diverse elements, what was
greatest in him, and in Greece,
was the recognition of these conflicts
for what they were…….
that by grappling with them
a  better order in life might then arise.

Details | Mythology Poem | |

Phoenix rising

Phoenix Rising.

She's a golden bird with wings afire, like an eagle she appears
Her age be often very great some say one hundred years.
At death she builds her funeral pyre and puts herself to flame
But she will rise above the fire and she will live again.

This mighty bird rules Scorpio, a deep and mystic sign
Which births those brooding types of folk with questions on their mind.
Who's lives be ruled by transformation, who must rise above the fire
Yes Scorpios be here on earth to rise above desire.

It starts off with the Scorpion, boy she knows how to sting
She hides herself in icy water, to desires she will cling.
And she must grow into an eagle and fly high in the sky
She must peel away the onion layers and learn before she dies.

And then her golden feathers, come ablaze with orange fire
And the Phoenix bird she will rise up above those bold desires.
The fiery eagle will build her pyre and put herself to flames
This be the song of transformation, when life's no more the same.

Details | Mythology Poem | |

The Oracle's Descent

Footsteps absorbed as maids descend
into the Delphi's cave they went.
Pellucidar is what they sought;
no thoughts of Dante's lurid hell;
questing an inner earth to dwell.
Down where the core a sun begot;
footsteps absorbed as maids descend
into the Delphi's cave they went.

Green life fluoresced where light was cast.
The lakes and waterfalls were vast.
Pendicular is what they sought,
down where the core a sun begot.
Footsteps absorbed as maids descend
into the Delphi's cave they went.

Details | Mythology Poem | |

What the Mermaid Knows


Full is the sea of your memories
Seaweed meadowed, deep cave treasuries
Stories that summon the lost and curious
Legends embossed in silent reveries

Drift the illumined waves of your home
Wide the blue realms in which you may roam
Your spirit alive beyond undersea depths
In echoes of songs over silver green foam.

What is it - what does the mermaid know
Beyond the clouds and the winds that blow
That she is woman and nature combined
Her wisdom of this on mankind will bestow


Suzanne Delaney

Rubaiyat

Details | Mythology Poem | |

Rosalia - The Evil Black Witch of the Harz, Part One

Rosalia - The Evil Black Witch of the Harz

Prologue
This is a rather grim epic poetic tale of Rosalia, a 16th century German witch who terrorized villages, destroyed the lives and corrupted the souls of many people throughout the countryside in the Harz Mountains in Germany. 

Rosalia focused her evil and malicious activities at the outset in a land area directly below the Brocken summit in the Harz. Over the time and extent of her macabre reign as a Black Witch and a Master of the Black Arts, Rosalia began to expand her campaign of evil among other provincial areas of the Harz beyond the Brocken. Her periodic nightly raids on villages in the Harz are part of the continuing legends of witchcraft and sorcery that still pervade the local culture there to this very day. 

Rosalia in modern day parlance was the “real deal” when it came to wreaking havoc and pandemonium among mankind. That is, she was truly a redoubtable force of evil and unmitigated malevolence, not to be toyed with nor underestimated by anyone seeking to confront her. Rosalia was bent on fulfilling Lucifer’s principal goals: destroying the peace and harmony of mankind; disrupting the holy balance of the relationship between Man and God; corrupting the eternal souls of men, women, and children; extinguishing the light in the world; and bringing mankind into darkness and despair.       

Rosalia’s Entrée to the 16th Century
Rosalia was born and later raised as a child in a Witches’ coven.
Although Rosalia was born in the 16th century again in human form, 
she was, in reality, a reincarnated evil soul many centuries old.
Her Hell-spawned soul was seared in Hell’s very own oven, 
and like the Gorgon Medusa herself—she was a creature gone wild. 

Rosalia indeed was also an intense and a very precocious child: 
who was imbued with uncanny and unearthly powers,
who was “left-handed” and obviously “sinister,”
who possessed a keen and piercing intellect,
and had scaurous, strong ankles and a schnauzkrampf-like mouth,
and was fisslingual like the Devil—with a “forked tongue,” 
who had a horrifying and monstrous Medusa-like appearance
at a glance—stark and menacing, frightening and rapacious, 
with jet black stringy, snake-like hair and black teeth,
with dark probing eyes and exceptional sensory perception,
and a bulbous, bile-ridden black wart . . . 
protruding on the lower left side of her nose close to the tip.

Rosalia and Black Magic were one in the same, and
her craggy appearance and coarse demeanor—black wart and all,
her deceptive powers, and her utter malevolence toward man— 
all constituting a terrifying reflection of pure evil and foreboding, 
and all the while illuminating mankind’s quizzical wonderment 
at the power of die Hexerei.

Rosalia was aptly known and greatly feared as the “Queen of Walpurgis Nacht,” “The Devil’s Concubine,” and “The Queen of Darkness.”

Rosalia delighted in being “The Devil’s Concubine” by name,
for her liaisons with Lucifer made her omnipotent and devoutly unholy.
Her unbridled sense of power and invincibility was this Black Witch’s aim,
for this fed her conviction to do vicious and evil things—to be unholy.

Rosalia’s Power and Relationship to the Devil
It is said that Rosalia’s power of Witchcraft and the Black Arts
derived from her worship to and direct relationship with the Devil himself,
thus making her virtually omnipotent, all-powerful.

As the most favored disciple and mistress of the Dark One
Rosalia acutely honed her pagan skills in the Black Arts 
to the highest rapture while using her Gorgon-grimaced face
to strike fear in all who resisted her using a withering and wicked 
mesmerizing gaze with which she paralyzed her victims with unending
torment, agony, and fear.

On occasion she would extract the putrid bile liquid from her Black Wart
and used it to poison and corrupt the life essence of her victims—if they resisted.

The utter revulsion and palpable fear felt by Rosalia’s victims
was practically indescribable given its horrible nature. 

Both her power and her conviction to do vicious evil things 
appeared to be wrapped in a cloak of seeming invincibility.

Lucifer did exceedingly well in his choice of Rosalia as his most favored disciple and mistress—for she savored his ferocious favor and unleashed without a conscience a torrent of evil doings and unholy machinations on those unlucky enough to cross her path.  

To know Rosalia was to realize a gorgonesque damnation forever 
while she pursued the unholy glorification of her master—Lucifer.
In time Rosalia was granted the power over all hell-spawned demons forever to support and consummate her unholy activities in the name of Lucifer.

End of Part One
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany (September 20, 2014)