Login
|
Join PoetrySoup
Home
Submit Poems
Login
Sign Up
Member Home
My Poems
My Quotes
My Profile & Settings
My Inboxes
My Outboxes
Soup Mail
Contest Results/Status
Contests
Poems
Poets
Famous Poems
Famous Poets
Dictionary
Types of Poems
Quotes
Short Stories
Articles
Forum
Blogs
Poem of the Day
New Poems
Resources
Syllable Counter
Anthology
Grammar Check
Greeting Card Maker
Classifieds
Member Area
Member Home
My Profile and Settings
My Poems
My Quotes
My Short Stories
My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder
Soup Social
Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us
Member Poems
Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Random
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread
Member Poets
Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest
Famous Poems
Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100
Famous Poets
Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War
Poetry Resources
Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetics
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
Store
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter
Email Poem
Your IP Address: 3.142.12.170
Your Email Address:
Required
Email Address Not Valid.
To Email Address:
Email Address Not Valid.
Required
Subject
Required
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
There was a young man named Anton, who lived back in the seventies, he wasn’t the type to fit in, felt outcast from society. Never got along with others, and didn’t enjoy playing sports, his parent’s said, “Just get out more.” It was for his good, they’re exhort. But like so many introverts Anton thought that the world was wrong, that most people ran with the herd, they conformed, they weren’t all that strong. He glorified the fact that he didn’t go along with the trends, and slowly developed hatred for all the ‘ordinary’ men. It’s a path that we know too well, even now in this modern age, and Anton’s father worked a lot, barely saw his son on most days. So Anton just drifted further, dabbling with some occult books, not just some stupid Ouiji Board, quite deeply did young Anton look. And when his mother went to France to go visit her relatives, she brought Anton along with her, quite a trip for a teenage kid. During the long weeks in Paris the teen went to explore the town, and found there an antique bookshop, he spent hours looking around. In it he found, in tattered tomes, books claiming that they taught magic, thinking he’d hit on a gold mine he got them down, bought them up quick. The shopkeeper just rolled his eyes, he’d tried to sell that junk for years, if some young fool would pay for them then what was there for him to fear? It turned out there was quite a lot, though nobody knew it back then, since these books were not forgeries, carried knowledge of ancient men. And thought it took Anton some time to learn ancient French and Latin, by the time he finished college the books yielded secrets to him. They told him the ways of magic, of dark powers men could call on, at first he thought it just a joke, but believed the words before long. Who, back then, would write books this long, back when paper was quite pricey? That did not make much sense to him, so Anton decided to see. He ingested ingredients, strange herbs, and cruel insects that sting, he tattooed sigils in his skin, and called upon all dark beings. It started with some little things, moving cups with waves of his hand, electric glows on his fingers, leaping higher than a man could stand. But power corrupts everything, and he was corrupt from the start, Anton was an easy target with resentment deep in his heart. He began shooting bolts of light, vaporized a dog to practice, at a bar he once waved a hand shattering a young woman’s wrist... CONTINUES IN PART II.
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required