Quatrain Imagination Poems | Quatrain Poems About Imagination

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Heritage

The ranch on which I hang my hat, though short on most the frills,
Is thirteen sections, give or take, of rugged trails an’ hills.
We call it ‘home’, our little world, our very own frontier,
Amongst the cattle, sheep an' goats; the varmints, hogs an' deer.

Today I watched the breakin' dawn an' whiffed the mornin' air,
A time I often set aside for things like thought an' prayer.
A Mockin'bird an' Mornin' Dove, an' other birds at play,
Were there to sing an' set the mood to start another day.

This mornin' saw the strangest thing, like time itself had merged,
An' all the souls who once were here, appeared an' then converged.
In swirlin' clouds of mist an' fog, right off the bluffs they rolled,
Till all had gathered in the glen, the modern an' the old.

The Indians, conquistadors, an' other ancient men,
The soldiers from this country's wars, an' cowboys from back when…
They all had come from yesterday to help me understand
Our link with those who came before, to heritage an' land.

A crazy notion, so I thought, that they could just appear,
But as the morning went along the reason got real clear.
They rode along with me that day to show me things I’ve missed,
The things I’ve seen a thousand times an’ some I’d just dismissed.

Those wagon roads of long ago, still evident today,
Are carved in rock an' rutted earth, not apt to wash away.
They linked the missions, forts an' towns those many years gone by;
An' left their mark for all to see, as modern times grew nigh.

The artifacts an' weathered ruins attest to yesterdays,
When others came an' lived their lives in very different ways.
We've seen their skill in arrowheads they honed from fired stone,
An' craftsmanship in beads an' tools they fashioned out of bone.

At ever turn and trail we took was something to remind,
The Maker must have had a plan laid out for humankind.
The Earth He made’s been feedin' us a half-a-million years,
An' used it's wonder, force an' change to challenge pioneers.

I do not know if they'll return or if they’ll feel the need,
But I’m prepared to ride the trail, where ever it may lead.
We all are spirits ridin’ time with bodies of the Earth,
Whose time has come to take the reins an’ offer up our worth.

The land has been the legacy we cultivate an’ reap,
The life has been the heritage our father’s fought to keep,
An’ we are bound throughout our time with those who came before,
To put our hearts and souls to it, and make it something more.

Copyright © Jim Fish | Year Posted 2009



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Sol Squints

Sol squints His blazing crimson eye
clinging to the edge of the Earth.
And as scarlet smears a teal sky
dusk dies awaiting dawn's rebirth.

Vermilion clouds float overhead
hovering just above the ground.
And as the horizon bleeds red
darkness descends without a sound.

Shades of charcoal dappled on blue
merge in the creases of the night.
And a lone owl bids day adieu
silhouetted against last light.

Shadows flow like rivers of black
as twilight succumbs to the dark. 
And daylight slips into a crack
abandoning a landscape stark.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

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A NOOK AND A STORYBOOK




While resting in my nook, breaths grip
As lampshade marks edges of leaves;
That  I wander into the scene
On pages afloat, a tale weaves .
Listening to my restless sighs,
The hero wins a maiden fair
Under the  rim of  jeweled clouds…
Yet  one dark villain lurks, beware!

Though moonlight hides its varnished face
My eyes  pursue this  raging quest;
And though caught in flamed paradise
Late hour ushers a sleep’s request .
Tucking the book, whispers I hear
Unto rivers of my vivid dream,
Awaiting for morn to touch its ray
To finish lines from a tale, supreme.


Contest: "What I Would Give For A Nook And A Storybook"
Sponsor: Eve Roper

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016



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Smiling Spitting Deadly Sins

Smiling Spitting Deadly Sins

Son of the Devil evil and twisted when his mask falls away
Through the curtains of death he turns truth into dark lies
With horrible shadows haunting over Love's light so pure
As jealousy reveals shades of a Soul’s envy at this moment

Cunningly you crawl behind colors pride with selfish hurting
Innocence casting stones—the fruits of a hideous lurking evil
Filling you with stupid silly emotions crying crocodile tears
Hate is your playground game as the Dark One takes his souls

Weeping from the deep wounds inflicted on others at your wish
While fighting one lost battle as your words burn from the ugly
Fork of your tongue while spitting venom they become a vile
Poison in which every last drop makes one’s very skin crawl

When I see the light of truth awakening in your Soul’s eyes
I really see a Hell-Fire scorching red hot who is the real you
Your pretty tongue of thy father speaks the evil words of the 
King of Lies to my heart as it is touched by the serpent’s rasp

Yet ever you can never always hide behind this perfidious mask 
And such words of beauty will not always hide what lies within 
The darkest outreaches of your Soul’s descent into damnation
For Love itself is a journey of the gentle divine and the innocent

But those who breathe the Hell-Fire can only fool us all so long
And when their mask falls away they speak with a serpent’s tongue
So vile and gruesome that they know not of Love as they strike and
Bring eternal pain holding the Devil’s sword with their blackened hand

Causing pain with greatest relish as they laugh heartily at the pain
Inflicted on others not really knowing what they hold in their hand
In hate and anger while striking out at all innocent souls as their
Double-edged sword waits for those from the depths of Hell itself

Gary Bateman, Liam McDaid, and Michael Clarke
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
August 9, 2015 (Unrhymed Quatrain)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015

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SELF-GRATIFICATION IS THE FRIUT OF ONE'S LOVE

Self-gratification is the fruit of one's love,
making the artist's delighted face glow...
when every vision has been achieved,
and each intention joyfully revealed.


He will envision the shape and colors,
then transfer those images to canvas;
and with the gentles strokes of his brush...
real faces will appear and suddenly blush.


Thinker and dreamer, let passion and imagination flow,
don't be distracted by worries or external sounds below;
work diligently with your brush, transcending your own credibility...
but later, it would be too hilarious to scream out your insanity.


Self-gratification is the fruit of one's love...
that enduring, timeless legacy hard to ignore;
when others show admiration, you'll be so pleased
and motivated to add more laurels to your prestige.     


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2009

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In My Vibrant Dream

*Past silver groves of willows weeping near a crystal stream, I move with an excitement flowing in my vibrant dream. Those colors that I take for granted in the concrete world shine brilliantly like buds of roses that have come unfurled. Ahead there is a field of daisies - wild yellow in bloom. I’m feeling golden; such enchantment whisks away all gloom. Atop a hill as bright a green as Ireland’s emerald isle - as day’s last rays of sun shine down - is where I’ll stay a while. Inside my dream appears white parchment; in my hand a quill! Across the sky there splashes splendor; all the earth grows still. A white swan’s feather now dips into ink a cobalt blue. As sky bursts crimson, I am painting all this dream for you! *Past silver groves of willows weeping is a line I borrowed from Heather Ober's "Into the Gloaming" Written by Andrea Dietrich For Richard Lamoureux's Pick a Line Any Line Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013

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She Danced

The flowers danced within the breeze
The music box dancer danced with ease
She danced and danced within his heart
For he loved her from the very start

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2010

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What's my life without love

They say beauty defines you 
But I think your heart defines you
Your heart is an unique jewel 
Made to be shined and loved 

Your heart and my heart are no different 
They beat the same joy of living 
Maybe sing different tunes 
But their rhythms are exactly alike

Fragile maybe but heartbeat strong
Tireless to care and smile
They sing they cry they fly they fall 
They go thru a lot yet unrelenting to beat on 
 
Baby your heart is beautiful 
You can't do no wrong letting it shine 
Remember risk is where reward comes from
Perchance happiness 

As my heart is soft and yes fragile 
Been broken and cried countless times 
Yet relentless to love on 
Because what's my life without love


        Smile 

   Akkina R Downing
        8-12-17

Copyright © Akkina Downing | Year Posted 2017

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Mystic Tinklings

                   Mystic Tinklings


Mystic tinklings
	Ancient echoes from the past
Fleeting inklings
	Glimmer just beyond your grasp

Phantom footfalls
	When you know that you’re alone
Echoed choircalls
	Of a long forgotten song

Shadows slipway
	From the corners of your eye
Darkened hallways
	Hints of time passed by

Brief reflections
	Of things you did not see
Vast collections
	Of the things that used to be

Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2010

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Last Lingering Light

A scarlet sun bleeds onto a blue sky
behind branches of a majestic oak.
And shadows ink its leaves in silhouette
as lonely crickets chirp and bullfrogs croak.

I can hear the crops rippling in the breeze
and a brook babbling with a southern drawl.
Yet they’re lost to the quiet of night
as time slows to a perceptible crawl. 

When adventurous moths take to the air
acrobatic bats blindly hunt in flight.
And as darkness descends like a curtain
day acquiesces to the might of night.

A quicksilver moon pools amidst the clouds
dripping drops of sunshine onto the lake.
And all of heaven begins to glitter
as billions of sleeping stars start to wake.

The hooting of an owl encourages dusk
to extinguish the last lingering light.
And diurnal animals go to sleep
as nature silently whispers Goodnight.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

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My Sister Is An Alien!

My sister is strange
There's no doubt about it
She's an Alien,  that's why
Just get up and shout it!

Her mind control crying
Gets her anything she wants
I say "That's not fair!"
But she just looks at me and taunts

My sister is strange
There's no doubt about it
She's an Alien,  that's why
Just get up and shout it!

It's just a disguise
I'm on to her
Is she scaly
Or covered in fur

My sister is strange
There's no doubt about it
She's an Alien,  that's why
Just get up and shout it!

She's spying on us
They 're ready to invade
So don't just be frightened
Be very afraid!

My sister is strange
There's no doubt about it
She's an Alien,  that's why
Just get up and shout it!


She knows I'm on to her
She's calling for friends
So run for your life
And hide till it ends

Copyright © James Heseltine | Year Posted 2005

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In A Perfect World

If we lived in a perfect world
happiness and love would abound.
And in this utopic dreamworld
there would be no hurt to be found.

Peace and brotherhood would nourish
hope and idealistic dreams.
And we would help nature flourish
in our oceans rivers and streams.

From rare orchids to edelweiss
flowers would encircle Earth's girth.
And we'd all live in paradise
a virtual heaven on Earth.

All diseases would disappear
and no one would die of hunger.
And we'd only cry happy tears
for we’d live forever younger.

But alas it isn't that way
disease and cruelty exist.
And starvation is here to stay
while warfare and famine persist.
	
Written Feb. 9th , 2016 

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016

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Whisperings Of Guilt

When the truth shuns flattery’s lies
it opens doors that let hope sneak in.
And mutes all the varied voices
doubt keeps secluded deep within.

When we first seek love in our dreams
passion and desire never wilt.
And the sanctuary of sleep
stifles the whisperings of guilt.

The mind's a fantasy playground 
filled with thoughts that scurry from sight.
And skeletons of memories 
that the hands of time bleached bone white.

Monsters and angels coexist
both in the heart and realm of dream.
And speak the language of laughter
love and the occasional scream.

Cupid abhors the emptiness
that languishes in lonely hearts.
And gives voice to the silent tears 
that gather as happiness starts.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

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More Than A Clown

I don’t want to play any more
it's time to put away my mask.
And though people still need to laugh
I'm simply not up to the task.

My act isn't very funny
and will probably be my last.
For like the white-face that I wear
I’m just a relic of the past.

I find it hard to paint a smile
on top of a permanent frown.
And yet in costume I'm expected
to quickly flip frowns upside-down.

It has been a long time coming
but I need to rethink my dream.
And try my hand at something else
less emotionally extreme.

When I look into a mirror
I want to see more than a clown.
And should someone ask what I do
it'll no longer bring me down.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016

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Shades Of Grape

Black edges a turquoise horizon,
inking silhouettes a cobalt blue.
And shining stars, like twinkling candles,
faintly flicker in and out of view.

Color escapes from night’s dark abyss,
as shadows reborn are given shape.
And sunbeams gild the rim of the earth,
distilling reds into shades of grape.

Sound is suspended, all is silent,
a magical time, before birds fly.
Magenta clouds share shades of crimson,
imbued with fire that ignites the sky.

A birthing sun ascends from the east,
its brilliance engulfing all of space.
Daylight reclaims territories lost,
and night vanishes, without a trace.


Written Jan 7th, 2016 for the contest, Any Poem, sponsor, Broken Wings

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016

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Lovers Utopia

Magical crescent moon
Shining on the path below
Lighting the way for lovers
Together as they stroll

Exploring the enchantment
Of the animals and the trees
Finding their own Utopia
Beneath natures canopy

Together they may hear
A love birds sweet melody
As the crickets and a bullfrog
Seem to join in harmony

Sparkling stars and dewdrops
Fireflies dance about merrily
As winds song within the leaves
Plays a lovers symphony

The smell of jasmine in the air
Rose and chamomile so sweet
With just a soft hint of patchouli
A lovers perfume as they meet

The mystery and excitement
Passionate kisses, perfect date
These two lovers souls connect 
In this mesmerizing place 



Copyright © Lena Townsend | Year Posted 2009

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The Gift Of This Eve

One enchanted evening
I followed Luna’s moon
as She guided my ship
to a secret lagoon.

In a golden ocean
buffed to a mirror sheen
I spied the sexiest
mermaid I'd ever seen.

She flaunts ebony hair
befitting a true Queen
offset by a sweeping
tail of aquamarine.

Anchored in the shallows
I waded to the shore
and evoked the magic
that would open love's door.

Under a full March moon
she steps from fantasy
and rises from the sea
to make sweet love to me.

Sharing this special night
I know she will soon leave
and I must be content
with the gift of this eve.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016

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My Little Box

Sometimes, when I am alone
I go inside myself
and I get a little box
I keep upon a shelf.

My box is filled with memories,
sweet days that I once knew.
One of my greatest treasures
is the memory of you.

Time has begun to fade it
and has bent the corners in
yet when I gaze upon it,
it comes alive again.

I let it take me over
I ride it like a wave
feeling every inch of love
you once, so sweetly gave.

It fills my soul with pleasure
and helps me get away
from all the tribulations
that I must face each day.

Yet it was not always beautiful,
this memory I hold.
It use to only give me pain
and leave me feeling cold.

But so much time has passed away
and the pain has took its' leave
so now I may finally
enjoy instead of grieve.

Once it has embraced me
and filled me with its' wealth
I put it gently in my box
and place it on the shelf.

I'll always keep this precious jewel
with tender, loving care
so that when I need it,
it will be waiting there.

Copyright © Robin L. Gass | Year Posted 2008

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A Rusty Screen

Ethereal rays of light
dilute darkness into gray.
And black no longer shrouds night
only shadows defy day.

A spider’s web casts a hue
of iridescent flashes.
And the morning mist drips dew
in intermittent splashes.

Dawn splits reality’s realm
into scenes rivaling dreams.
And song birds sing in the elm
as sunbeams gild golden streams.

Dragonflies and bumble bees
flex crackled cellophane wings. 
And summer rides on each breeze
smug in the heat that it brings.

Slivers of light pierce my eye
filtered through a rusty screen.
And rustling leaves clamor high
in a canopy of green. 

Watching the night slip away
I greet the sun with a smile.
For as His light welcomes day
Sol ensures waking’s worthwhile.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

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The Moment Of Now

Tomorrow's not a given and
yesterday can't be taken back.
Today is your reality
and hope is what keeps you on track.

Live within the moment of now
comprehend the essence of you.
And ask yourself if you're happy
have your wishes and dreams come true?

Look deep within your fragile heart
has all its wounds been healed by time?
And have you experienced love
that can only be called sublime?

Take a break, step outside yourself 
and see the you that others see.
For while constantly performing
you see what you pretend to be.

We are all actors on life's stage
portraying rolls written by fate.
And cause we memorize our parts
it is hard to communicate. 

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016

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A Nook And A Storybook

A Nook and a Storybook


What would I give for a nook and a book
to cuddle and snuggle and longingly look
the pages unfolding as I listened to
the comforting song of a fast flowing brook.

Oh, if it had pictures, a faraway place,
mysterious villains, a dark alley chase
I’d pick up the phone and I’d call in sick
disappear in the mist, leave not a trace.

What would I do to be captured by words
impressed into service by pirates with swords,
adrift without wind, current silently slow
half crazed crew pacing the sun-baked dried boards.

Perhaps of an evening a stroll on the beach
salt, surf, and moonlight on ebony skin
passion full sated on cooling hard sand
last dream of the shanghaied seagoing men.

What would I give for a storybook nook
I’d offer it all the time that it took
to take me away to wherever it would
leave me enraptured by a murmuring brook.


4/15/2016

submitted to – What I Would Give For A Nook And A Storybook – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Eve Roper


 

Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2016

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It's Time To Paint The Trees

In September fairies dance
sensing Autumn’s on Her way.
And every year they gather
to honor this special day.

They hail the approaching Queen
and yet feel a little blue.
For upon Her arrival
they must bid Summer adieu.

Each has brought a magic brush
to dip into Autumn's ink.
And beautify every leaf
transforming them in a blink.

Realizing Fall has come
Summer slowly slips away.
For it's time to paint the trees 
and the fairies love to play.

The leaves are tinted orange
changing color over night.
And intricate mosaics
are revealed at dawn's first light.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

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A NOOK AND A STORY BOOK

Words spring out from under the cover Lets delve together into a world A place of magic like no other Where imaginations are unfurled A tale of fantasy and fun Where bubblegum trees touch the sky Animals talk when out in the sun And purple elephants can fly We picture the scenes in our mind’s eye Let our creativity go wild Floating freely like a butterfly Precious time for a mother and child Contest A Nook and a story Book. Sponsor Eve Roper 04 ~17 ~16

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

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The Owl and the PusyCat Sail

Together the Owl and the PusyCat were married
Then again sailed out over the deep blue seas
Searching forever for the great Land of Nod,
To the place where they could find true peace.
True peace, true peace… Where they could find true peace.

The love that twined forever within their hearts
They sought throughout all the wonderous lands
Going to the place where they would live in peace,
A place where true peace, rules and lives in the hearts of the land.
The land, the land… Where true peace lives in the heart of the land.

Alas, the love of the heart, though truly not easy to find…
Is easier to find than the love of peace, found throughout the land.
So it’s said they will continue to sail, until that day comes true,
And when they land for the final time, will be up to me and you.
Me and you, me and you… That day will be up to me and you.


Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012

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Part of Me

There's a part of me that still lives on the water
A part of me that you can never keep
Tears fill my eyes as I dream  of the ocean
I see that island paradise in my sleep

My fishing boat lies sleeping in the harbor
Anchor weighing heavy on the ocean floor
I still miss all those nights at sea
My fishing boat will sail again no more

This was the life that I had chosen
From one port to another I would roam
Never stayed long enough to be familiar
Never knew a place I could call home

Sometimes I walk along the shoreline
Listening to her song out on the sea
That's when I know that someday I'll be leaving
The song she's singing is calling me

There is something magical in a night at sea
There's a million stars hanging all around
Untold stories lying behind me
New horizons yet to be found

Now that my sailing days are over
And my life is shifting gears
I can still resurrect those memories
When I taste the salt in my tears.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2006

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Parasol Pirate

It was "The Cape" in early June
Along with her sister Vie
They had strolled down past the dunes
Under a cloudless sky

She could taste the ocean salt 
On a swirling southern breeze
In new dresses mother bought
Instead of their dungarees

On a rock, the eldest in blue
Matching ribbon in her hair
Going on 'bout a boy she knew
The youngest pretending to care

But sailing on a green grass ocean
Drifting in a pirate's dream
A young girl with a swashbuckling notion
Stealing gold from a Spanish queen

Looting up and down the coast
Black patch over one eye
Sailing with Blackbeard's ghost
Skull and crossbones flying high

Then suddenly, back in a blink
Captured by mother's call
A girl pirate dressed in pink
Her saber, a red parasol


   an original poem by Daniel Turner

Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016

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My Poetic Gun

I’m a poetic gun;
Shells of great caliber.
I measure each poem,
With my trusty caliper.

I load my own rounds,
Thoughts are the primer.
The powder’s my inspiration;
I’m a quick draw rhymer. 

With my cylinder loaded,
I’m ready to take aim.
Shooting poems into existence,
Into life’s open range.

In the heart of the prairie,
An outlaw poetic spree begun.
Shooting rounds onto the page,
From my poetic gun.

Copyright © Raul Moreno | Year Posted 2009

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Raindrops Fall

Raindrops now escape the clouds
and downwards they do fly.
Earthbound now their journey starts,
set free from blackened sky.

Let loose they dance upon the ground
and skip as if at play,
a melody they seem to hum,
music, natures way.

Into rivers, brooks and streams
each raindrop heads like home,
and over waterfalls they rush,
into oceans seek to roam.

They call to clouds for brethren rain
to fall and learn to fly,
to start a journey homeward bound,
and escape their blackened sky.


For PD's contest 'Best rain poem'
8th place

Copyright © Emma Mantle | Year Posted 2011

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Whispers

Eternity never seems to last
Viewing life through misty windows
October winds wrapping fears
Love dancing with lonely tears

Lost in dreams
Other illusions scream
Voyages all but gone
Eternal voices, lay me to rest

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017

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A Dark Tale

I laugh as I think of it now, the dire warnings of hell
Nothing could scare me it didn’t matter, on this teaching I never did dwell.
I wondered why one dark night, again begging for sleep.
No fear of death of dying no foolish promises to keep.

It was then I found the answer as I slipped down through the floor
Could this be a dream or am I now no more.
Has death come upon me, I feel the air exude from my chest
Through eons of time yet seconds, maybe days or years at best.

Before me an evil thing but there are no brimstone and flames
“Now we will see this hell you mocked and you will know my name.
You never flinched about the hell threat but you are now here
Not only that I am your father and now you will know real fear.”

He breathed in deep; my skin scorched, it left my body in one piece
The agonies, I must be dead my skin floating in front just like a fleece
My muscles sinews and skeleton were all that I now had
“I thought you were my father I screamed you can’t treat me this bad.”

A thousand legions of devils all came round mocking me
Each breath they turned my way seemed to rip parts off of me
“You will learn to master them but until then you have to pay
You start at the bottom in this work.” then the hounds of hell did bay.

“To inflict the tortures required to give me the satisfaction
You must first suffer them all, that is my attraction.
When you have suffered them all you will know what to do
My work will be in your hands this is my legacy to you.”

“But how can you be my father?” I screamed as the hell hounds tore at me
“My mother was the sweetest woman on earth and all around could see.”
“Ha! I am the devil why would I want a whore,
 They are already down here; it was sweetness I searched for.”

“Your mother scorned me, she did not believe in all the hellish games I play
So I showed her my powers and you are with me from this day.
You should have listened to the teachers teaching of my home called hell.”
He waved his finger at me and the screams I could not quell.

Now I wish I had listened and taken an earthly fear
It could have made a difference, I may not now be here.
I take delight in dismembering and gouging out the eyes
Flaying the skin off the ungodly, yet I do it for a prize.

One day I will rule this place then my turn will come
I’ll leave this underworld one day and do what my father has done
I’ll take a woman for my wife the sweetest there ever walked
And pass on my inheritance to the offspring that hell balked.
©~GG~23/07/2012

 

Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2012