A thing of beauty
No, this is not by John Keats. You can find that here.



A thing of beauty

A thing of beauty
Could not easily pass…
Even an angel’s smile
It could surpass.

A frail rose, a white dove,
Eternal beauty…
Symbols of endless love…
Protecting them is your duty.

Red lightning, bright light,
Candles in the wind…
Signs of redemption
For all those who sinned.

Though threatened by visions of demons,
Shadowed by the cloak of death,
Thou shall never die…
Love has not given its last breath.

Remember…
At Dawn’s first chime,
Both Love and Hate were created.
Equal in strength, they endured throughout time.

God and Satan
Over a human’s heart fought,
To destroy one or another.
It was all for naught.

None prevailed,
For both still endure…
Now make your choice,
Your heart is still pure.

A thing of beauty,
One with an angel’s face,
Touched by
God’s overwhelming grace…

Is you!

The Battle

The Battle

‘My sweet, the time to talk is done!’
He said, as her warning he spurned.
‘There’s a battle to be won!
The horns have sounded, the scouts returned.

The horse's been saddled and the hour’s come.’
As he left, she sat distraught.
Was he really marching to the sound of drums,
Without sparing her a thought?
………
Arriving at the Valley of Myth,
He set his sights on the barren fields,
Soon to be filled with 
Bloodied swords and shattered shields.

As dawn was breaking,
On the horizon arose a forest of pikes.
He was focused, yet his heart was aching;
It wasn’t in his sword, swing or strike.

The battle grew more gruesome, and
His blood started to flow.
The blows he could withstand,
But the little red crystal started to glow…

General Gerald the Gray
Raised his hand and gave the sign.
As he turned around and fled the fray,
His pawns carried out the king’s design.

A crossbow bolt struck the knight’s back…
His sword fell from his grip…
His vision faded to black…
Her name parted from his lips…
…………
The General’s army returned victorious.
With a sneer, his king’s throne he approached.
‘My king, this day is glorious.’
‘And our plot?’ ‘Carried out beyond reproach.’

‘Very good, very good indeed!’ said the king, pleased.
‘Let the princess know. However, handle it with care.
Her spirit won’t break with ease.
And I don’t want to flaw a jewel so rare.’
…………
However, little did they know
The jester was ‘round the corner, listening in.
To his mistress he ran. ‘Bring I news of woe!
Alas, not I see where to begin…

My princess, in the woods is your heart’s sweet.
Probably dead, most likely dying.
By your father’s schemes, tasted his sword defeat.
Your ears do trust, not do I jest, nor I am lying.’

‘Be it so?’ she asked with her mouth agape.
In her room, by the pale moonlight,
She donned a pitch black cape,
To be hidden in the dead of the night.
…………
Moments later, the dark steed
Darted through the castle gates
And passed the guards at speed,
Its black-clad rider uttering: ‘Let it be not too late!’

Welcome to Hell

Welcome to Hell

The Angel of Death came
To the laying couple;
Through her tears untamed,
It closed in, unseen and subtle.

The dying words
Parted from his lips,
Though they fell unheard,
For Death came to reap.

His final breath drawing nigh…
His heart at its last pound
Instead of soaring towards heaven, high,
His soul was dragged deep beneath the ground.

Awakening on the hard cold rock,
The accursed ruby still strung around his neck,
He heard the thunderous voice mock:
“Wake up, or I’ll have the birds your flesh peck!”

Out of the darkness 
Came an withering man,
Garbed in a haggard grey dress,
And a crooked staff in hand,

Who, pointing down a path, proceeded to say: 
“You are cursed, yet you’ve not fallen to temptation…
You’re intriguing, but you've no time to rest, so be on your way.
You need to take up your station.”

Rotten corpses and festering boils
Were what he saw on the gloomy path,
Tortured souls forced to toil
Or face their master’s wrath.

As he came across a bridge, he saw a castle
And afore it, a sudden drop;
The moat, bloody with heads of dead vassals;
Rivers of fire and clouds of ash adorned the top;

An image of his impending doom.
The boards of the bridge were terribly cracked,
But, before despair would have him consumed,
His eyes fell upon a burnt wooden Plaque:

Be forewarned, for here resides
Belial, one of the four crown princes of Hell
So take care of how you stride,
It may lead you to your knell.

A Knight's Death

Before you ask, this is the main story. Its body will slowly be revealed. hope you will enjoy it.

A knight’s death

Full moon – hidden 
Behind the dark clouds;
The knight rests here, a place forbidden,
Wounded, under a blood red shroud…

Feeling the scorpion’s sting
And its venom coursing through his veins;
Hearing the flutter of an angel’s wings
As it flees from the darkness’ reign.
……………
Elsewhere, a flowing shade
Rushes through the trees,
The silhouette of the young maid
Looking for the one whose soul flees,

Her crystal crown
Askew on her head,
Her burgundy gown
Tearing as she sped.
……………
In the black pitch,
By the light of embers,
The venom making his muscles twitch,
He lays and remembers

Her sandy locks
Her grey blue eyes,
Ever slyer than a fox’,
(Oh, sight sent by the skies)

Her sweet smile,
Her perfect skin…
Although he’d known her for a while,
He’d never met the soul within.

A Fury by nature, a Nymph by name;
For her, he damned himself,
For her smile, he lit the flame.
And, yet, he long remained but a memory on a shelf.
……………
She hopes she makes it in time…
‘Damned be the treason and damn be the plot!
God, let me make it before the bell’s last chime!
A curse upon thee, father, and upon your whole lot!’
……………
‘I lay here, in my darkest hour…’
He manage to utter, drawing his last breath,
‘Let not my life be a blue flower
Withering as I’m nearing to my death…

Now, the fire’s ablaze,
And my kingdom’s turned to dust.
But I long for the days
My soul wasn’t covered with rust…

At last you came, my dear…
Speak not and let not a tear be shed,
Because there is nothing to fear…
In death, nothing is to dread.’
……………
‘And, yet, it feels like a nightmare…
I fear for your doom.’
A single crystal tear dropped by an ember’s flare.
‘May it light your tomb.’
……………
After the accursed deed,
He sealed his fate:
His heart to forever bleed,
As he’ll guard Hell’s Gate.

The Traveller

The beginning of the story. Enjoy.




The Traveller

Weary traveller,
Take of your cloak,
There’s no hiding
When there’s fog or smoke.

In hand, an ale,
To put some red in your face’s pale,
To take the chill from your ghostly heart,
Before you once more depart.

Lay your bones to rest
While the host will do his best.
For, at this inn,
Story telling will soon begin.

Stories of darkness and light,
Stories both sinister and bright,
Stories of love and hate,
Of a knight’s chosen fate…

Disclaimer

I created this blog as a part time "home" for my poems only. While they will be posted randomly, these poems will eventually tell a story. The correct order will be posted in the sidebar :).