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Raven Mirthwood Poem
i.
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even my spouse.
My wife and son lay silent, all tucked in their beds,
Visions of demons no longer danced in my head.
My figure from the hall cast a shadow in the room,
The air a heavy pall, befitting this late night's gloom.
I bet you're all wondering what led to my plight,
It began two months ago on Halloween night.
ii.
My friend was throwing a party, costumes required—
Wear something eye-catching, unique, something inspired.
The festivities underway when my family arrived,
My son dressed as Superman, us, Bonnie and Clyde.
We partook of drink and merriment all throughout the eve,
Around the stroke of midnight, most began to leave.
I hugged my wife and kid and kissed them goodnight,
Told them I'd get a ride and be home at first light.
I watched my family depart as I closed the front door,
And turned to see my friend beckoning us forward.
He produced a Ouija board and placed it on the table,
"Do you guys believe in ghosts? Or think they're just fable?"
The rest of us laughed and asked if he was serious,
"Just give it a try. Aren't you the least bit curious?"
We sat around the board and listened to directions,
On communing with the dead, during our late night session.
After some time of nothing remotely disturbing,
Something creepy occurred, something very unnerving.
The planchette began moving of its own accord,
Then watched as it zig-zagged across the board.
I bolted upright—From a sharp, searing pain—
And heard the voice of a woman whispering my name.
Over the commotion, the sound of distant laughing,
A sudden chill engulfed me, my consciousness blackened.
iii.
I awoke with a start! Hands pressed against my head,
On a sweat soaked pillow, sheets strewn about the bed.
How’d I get home? Had what I drank been laced?!
Then felt the burn of three scratch marks on my waist.
Soon, sleepless nights followed, I became despondent,
Endless whispers from the shadows, my fragile mind haunted.
Glimpses of a figure unseen by my family,
Vanished into dark corners, questioned my sanity.
The little sleep I got, the darkest of dreams took hold,
My loved ones stared with mouths agape, eyes black as coal.
Was this real or nightmare? I could no longer discern,
Then the darkly figure of a woman, would nightly return.
"Your family's souls are damned, free them from their hurtin'.
Shuffle off the mortal coil, and be done with this burden.”
Copyright © Raven Mirthwood | Year Posted 2023
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Raven Mirthwood Poem
iv.
By Thanksgiving, their machinations no longer discreet,
Voices from the walls and vents, betrayed their deceit.
My family revealed as demons in flesh-and-blood guise,
Christmas Day was the day they had plotted my demise.
My nightmares more horrific, as that curséd day drew near,
Every morning, drenched in sweat, consumed by my fears.
So, I wore the mask of loving dad, right up till the Eve,
One last dream of the woman offering my reprieve.
"Your family is wicked. They'll kill you while you sleep.
Take the axe from the shed—when you swing, bury it deep."
v.
Christmas Eve, bright and early, I quietly left the room,
My family still sound asleep, silent as a tomb.
They awoke to hot cocoa, crackling fire, freshly fallen snow,
The smell of gingerbread, apple cider, their faces all aglow.
We spent the day playing games, told 'em how much I loved them,
Then kissed my wife off to bed, grabbed my son and hugged him.
"I care for you and your mom and would only do what's best.
I'll come wake you when Santa's gone," his head against my chest.
"I can’t wait! Goodnight, dad!" He bounded off to bed.
As soon as his door had closed, I headed to the shed.
With gas can and axe in hand, I moved with hurried stride,
And kicked open wide the door, where the first demon I spied.
With the axe, forty whacks, when I saw what I'd done,
I kicked down the other door, then swung forty-one.
I moved from room to room, possessed with righteous purpose,
Made the sign of the cross as I doused every surface.
The last drop, the living room, tossed aside the can,
Where among the gifts, an envelope, signed with child’s hand.
I removed a card and read—To The World's Greatest Dad!
With a photo of our family and the happy life we had.
I slumped beside the Christmas Tree with lit match and tearful gaze,
Then screamed as it and my wretched soul went up in hellish blaze.
As the flames consumed the heavens, a woman cackled with delight,
Disembodied laughter, that faded with the night.
Copyright © Raven Mirthwood | Year Posted 2023
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Raven Mirthwood Poem
The Revenant pt. 2 - Leviæthan
I
'neath the grim pallor of a Plutonian moon,
Sheltered in the cloak of Phantom's embrace,
A tempest rages within flesh—entombed,
Ash and soot caress expressionless face
II
Deep into that fire peering,
Long she stood there pondering, hearing
Voices, distant —haunting, searing
'round a pyre —bodies chant, sway and twist
Motley figures shifting, turning,
Seize the soul, within her yearning
Faces, obscene —enticing, stirring
A sweet longing, like unrequited kiss
O' What vile pageantry! —provoking,
Her weary flesh into approaching
Weary flesh —engaged, encroaching,
Shorn of tattered garb and ragged stitch
—
Light and Shadow rhythmic’lly dancing
Upon the flesh—tends the mind to drift
Wolves hone in —circling, advancing,
Pounce upon prey and bind it swift
III
Lo! The horror of her plot unfolding
'top the pyre—to their madness, beholden
Her wail, a dirge —reshaping, remolding
Their chant with a hex, through smirking lips
The darkest machination set in motion,
Soon...
"Soon, I Shall Be," softly spoken,
A hushed mantra, into crescendo growing,
Her heart pounding like a tyrant's fist
The earth shudders! —cracks beneath their feet
A chasmic yawn of interminable deep
Vengeance interred—on the precipice of sleep,
—Awakens!
Her arms outstretched with unsinged wrists
"So, I Shall Be—Remade! Unbroken!
Take This Flesh and Bone —As A Token!
Payment! An Oath With These Words Spoken!"
Echoing through the Endless Abyss
Shadow and flame —coiling, winding,
Kisses flesh —unburnt, undying
Her voice, shrill! —harrowing, climbing,
Shatters the firmament with perfect pitch
Down!—
Down rain the heavens upon the wicked! —squealing,
Whose sloughing facades —smoking, peeling,
Reveal faces, familiar —cruel, deceiving
Raze and ruin by one decried "Witch!"
—
Within the veiled Darkness sempiternal,
Souls, like dying stars, ignite the Black
Spiraling embers till bloom Inferno,
Long she gazed into the Abyss
—and It smiled back
IV
Phantom cradles body and soul broken,
In death's repose—
On still waters, softly drifts
Laid to rest—
No epitaph, no words spoken,
Upon her brow—
Placed a gentle kiss
Copyright © Raven Mirthwood | Year Posted 2024
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Raven Mirthwood Poem
The Revenant pt. 1 - A Blighted Vale (pt 1/2)
A solitary figure off the beaten path,
The air a palpable gloom
Be it mortal or shade of someone passed,
No longer in want of a tomb
Betwixt a shuffling gait and steady pace,
A sole impression leaves foliage displaced
This mark being the only telltale trace
It may be of flesh and blood,
And not trick of the moon
At a glance— one clothed in religion,
Or belief in superstition,
May perchance, mistake this form,
For haunting apparition
Till the snapping of dry twigs and leaves,
Ragged garments snagging trees,
Footfalls placing fauna ill at ease—
This IS flesh and blood,
Allaying all doubt and suspicion
A weathered woman of years gone passed,
Exuberance of youth, —long ago
Whose leathery hide, worn and cracked,
Lays bare a tale of hardship and woe
Though she's endured this life cruel,
Her gaze still pierces deepest blue,
That belies a fire 'neath azure pools
Her body a shell, scorned and wracked,
But the eyes, —windows to the soul
This corporeal form— not shade,
But mere mortal deduced
Wrapped in cloth tattered and frayed,
Sway from limbs like hangman's noose
Though the night's biting chill, ill-favored,
She does not stumble, falter nor waver
Not till completion of one final labor
Then, Death take hold the reins,
And shuffle the mortal coil loose
Through the tangle, muck and mire—
Every inch of pernicious terrain—
Punishes flesh, but heart's desire,
Stokes the embers that keep her soul aflame
Aided by moon's celestial lighting,
Quells the fear within from rising,
As journey's end meets the horizon,
A blighted vale where devils conspire—
Where darkness and despair hold domain
Copyright © Raven Mirthwood | Year Posted 2024
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Raven Mirthwood Poem
The Revenant pt. 1 - A Blighted Vale (pt 2/2)
Amongst the dead and dying trees,
A Stygian crypt of crumbling stone
A doorway opened, not with man-made keys,
But forgotten tongue from forgotten tome
This ancient ruin with obscured glyphs,
Gently brushed clean with calloused tips
Whispered words from cracked, parched lips,
Spill forth with unhindered ease—
Like oft spoken lines from cherished poem
Through parted lips, unfiltered words—
Hang heavy on the autumn breeze
An incantation, profane and absurd,
With pressed palms and soiled knees
Then, a deafening clap like thunder,
Splits bark and stone asunder,
Unblinking, her eyes transfixed with wonder
'neath the cloak of night, something stirred,
Within the smoldering debris
Amidst the rubble, a stifling plume,
Coalesced from ash and stone
Sears the throat with each breath consumed,
Seizing muscle and aching bone
Then, a much welcomed reprieve,
Unfettering her senses and lungs to breathe
As the expelled miasma slowly recedes,
And takes on an appearance that mirrors her own
From blackened debris, this Phantom figure,
Whose form and features, to her's, akin
Its visage—a reflection, not of her cold exterior,
But tempered rage contained within
Under its gaze, —a violent shiver,
Her once steady hands, —now a tremor,
Its eyes a cauldron of glowing embers—
Set ablaze with devilish grin
Copyright © Raven Mirthwood | Year Posted 2024
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Raven Mirthwood Poem
The Revenant pt. 3 - The Midnight Hour
~{Renatus}~
Toll of the bell at Midnight Hour,
High above, —the full moon still
Below, a sepulcher in darkness devoured,
Encased in fog and Winter's chill
An ebon fowl of blackest plume,
Solemn, —perched atop sculpted stone;
Keeps vigil over accurséd tomb,
Till stir within of flesh and bone
Awakened from the deepest slumber,
Horror made flesh —forged from pain
With words and fists unencumbered,
By those who wished to control and maim
Twinge of madness in every breath,
Burning vengeance twists the mind
Tormented soul in thrall to Death—
Goads the raven from its earthly binds
Crypt expels this chilling disdain,
Darkness and flesh, imbue then impart
Path of corvid and beast, split in twain,
Of Earth and Of Ether, each depart
~{Letifera}~
"Covet the land, no company I keep..."
Over the mire, muck and tangle—
Unhindered by pernicious terrain—
This Beast, spoke of —only in fable,
Recompense for innocence slain
A village, quiet, —till breath of day,
Save for the sentinel up on high
Wide-eyed, sober, meets raven's gaze,
Raised alarum splits moonlit sky
"Covet the land, no company I keep,
Mortal hearts fill with dread..."
Shattered silence from panicked yell,
As ominous fog blankets the land
Thunderous peal breaks Sandman's spell,
The watchman bellows frantic commands:
—
"Latch the windows! Bar the doors!
Pray to your gods overhead!
Then dare not creak a single board!
Nor let slip! —an utterance from dread!"
—
No sooner these last words spoken,
Tearing of flesh, then gurgling sound
The Beast, swift! —His throat torn open
Enveloping fog, a burial shroud
"Covet the land, no company I keep,
Mortal hearts fill with dread
Inevitable slaughter of the sheep,
An insatiable hunger to be fed."
Copyright © Raven Mirthwood | Year Posted 2024
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Raven Mirthwood Poem
To The Love of My Life—My Daughter,
You can do whatever the heart desires
Though you may stumble, tumble, and fall
Rise! Like a phoenix from the fire
And when you do—
Go further than you've ever gone
Ascending, O' so higher and higher!
And when my life has passed into song,
Remember me fondly, and the Hope I inspire.
Copyright © Raven Mirthwood | Year Posted 2024
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