The clock had stricken the midnight hour.
The fog rolled in from the East and the West,
Surrounding the tower like I were some pest.
Blood curdling screams rung out from the hills,
Filling my spine with a number of chills.
“What be there?” I screamed, “I pray you do tell!”
No answer but silence; a breeze from Hell.
Another scream! Much closer than before!
Enough to wake a scholar from his lore.
“I ask again, I pray you tell…what be?”
O’ how slowly I lose my sanity.
Creatures creeping, crawling upon my land!
Unwilling to adhere to my demand!
The wind whistled through the desolate air,
Taunting my broken spirit to despair.
The fog peeled back revealing a quaint hush,
and here I still stand, for I am in no rush.
No haste for the sweet nectar of the grave,
No mourning in the passing of this knave.
As I be no more than a simple thief,
Stealing the attention…stealing the grief!
No place, have I, upon this risky post,
Guarding no more than a most deathly host.
One that beckons the blade upon this hilt,
One that fills my decaying mind with guilt.
So long ago had I stood here before
Guarding all things that I truly abhor.
But be it disgust or be it in fear?
No matter, no matter…for it is clear.
I shall drop to my knees and so implore,
“Hear me! Heed me! Let me forget this war!
It rages inside me forevermore,
I can hardly stand this pain anymore!”
A thunderous rage broke out inside the sky,
Resembling only a god’s reply.
But then I felt a pang upon my spine!
And darkness came again, to feast, to dine.
Slowly—ever so slowly, I passed on.
Quietly searching for a light: a Dawn.
Comments, concerns? Thoughts? Anything please
